


The Obstacle of Time

by VelvetCandy



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, M/M, Phan - Freeform, Phan AU, Phanfiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-04-15 11:35:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 51,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4605231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VelvetCandy/pseuds/VelvetCandy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In 1541, homosexuality was a crime punishable by death. For Daniel and his lover, it was a risk they were willing to take. However, when a witch by the name of Agnes whom is in love with Daniel catches them, she has the police arrest and hang them. She curses them, as well, to never meet again in their future reincarnations. But Daniel meets another witch in prison, one that blesses him to remember his past lives so he can find his lover again. The year is 2015, and Dan finds his love with the new name of Phil. While attempting to win him over, Agnes returns and means to bring Hell upon the men.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1541

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! This is going to be WAY longer than any other piece of writing I've done, if you've read my other works. I don't know what the inspiration was for this story, but I'm sure this will be one hell of one! I hope you enjoy it!  
> Also here are some songs I though go with this fic if you were interested:  
> From Eden- Hozier  
> What About Angels- Birdy  
> Madness- Muse  
> Take Me to Church- Hozier  
> I Found by Amber Run

Darkness descended on the town like a black velvet cloak; thick and heavy. Not even the sweet silver light of the moon could be seen, only faint amber candlelight from windows lit the snowy paths down below. It was also silent. The children had long since gone home from playing in the freshly fallen snow, their fathers home from work and mothers exhausted from homekeeping, the families all over London resting in their cottages sleeping like infants. However, in the second floor flat just above a bakery, two souls were lively as ever. Just as darkness was thick in the night, panic was present in the air around the two young men.

“Are you sure they came for you because of us? It could have been a routine the coppers do.” The taller of them pondered, trying to calm down the other.

“I’m sure, Daniel! My neighbor found out and she said she would have me killed for it, you too.” He was pacing back and forth in the small space, shaking from nerves and fear.

“That witch. I always knew she was loyal to the law, even when the law is wrong. What are we going to do, John?”

“I don’t know.” He whispered. “I’m terrified.”

“It’s alright. I am too. But we have to do something! We can’t just sit here and wait until they come for us!”

A single tear rolled down John’s face at first, followed by many more. He shook violently and sobbed into his hands, letting fear get the best of him. Daniel instantly walked forward and took the weeping man into his arms, resting his chin on John’s shoulder while rubbing his back with a gentle hand.

“Hush, it’s going to be okay, we can...we can pack our things and leave. I heard Scotland is great this time of year. We can- we can do something just- please stop crying. I don’t want you to be upset.” Daniel was choking back tears then, attempting to be strong for his lover and not weep as well. He knew that escaping from the police was nearly impossible, and he also knew that the crime for homosexuality was death. But he was intent on living, if not for himself then for John. It was his mission.

John pulled away far enough to look up at Daniel with innocence and sadness coursing through him. The light from the candles shone just so that his spectacles reflected golden rings on his icy blue eyes; the beauty that resonated off of him was too pure, even in a time of terror, for Daniel to comprehend. He could just sit and stare at him forever and never get enough of how gorgeous he was. The porcelain skin, the Adam’s apple, John Lloyd was the most beautiful man he had ever met and he never wanted to leave his side.

“Daniel, whatever happens tonight, I just want you to know that finding you has been the highlight of my life. Thank you for that.” John’s tears had stopped, but the seriousness in his voice was still there accompanied this time by gratefulness.

“John….” Daniel was left speechless by his love’s words. So instead of speaking, he drew John in for a kiss. A kiss full of longing and passion, a kiss like no other; a kiss as if to say thank you and farewell. John nestled closer to Daniel, running his hands through the taller boy’s curly hair attempting to forget the dense reality of the situation. It was almost as if they kept their lips on each other’s, the world would stop and let them be, but in truth it could never be that way.

Daniel didn’t tell John when he saw torches arriving at the bakery through the window. He just held him tighter and let a few tears drip from his brown eyes, trying to convince himself that he wouldn’t be ripped from the arms of the man he loved. And neither of them reacted when the door was busted open, when officers surrounded them yelling and shouting. Only when John was ripped aways and beaten did Daniel start shouting. He raised his fists and got two swings in before an officer hit him over the head with his club. Daniel fell to the floor of his flat in agony, the last thing in his sight John with blood over his face, eyes barely open. His glasses were just in front of him and Daniel grabbed them unknowingly. He wanted to reach out to John, but instead he closed his own eyes and let consciousness drift away.

 

Daniel awoke in a dark, dimly lit cell with shackles on and a headache strong enough to make any man wince in pain. The walls, ceiling, and floor were all made of stone with a bit of hay sprinkled in the corner for some unknown reason, most likely as bedding for prisoners. Because that’s what he was: a prisoner. Daniel James Howell was in jail for falling in love with a man and would most likely be killed for it, and there was nothing he or anyone else could do to stop it. As the gravity of the near future weighed down upon him, a clanging sounded at his bars and he looked up to see a woman standing there with a smile on her face and revenge in her eyes.

“I’m so happy to see you’re awake. I would have brought you food, but you’ll be killed before you can properly digest it, so there was no point.” She sang.

Daniel squinted up at the woman trying to recognize her. She had golden brown hair that curled slightly at the ends, a slender waist, an upturned nose, and dark green eyes. She couldn’t have been taller than 162 centimeters either. Suddenly Daniel realized who it was. He stood up shakily and stumbled to the bars of his cell.

“You..” He grumbled. Her name was Agnes Childs, and Daniel knew her very well. She used to come into his bakery every day whether it was to buy bread or cake or to attempt to woo him with her cleavage. Agnes never gave up in trying to win him over, she was in love with him. However it wasn’t the love that is full of care and support, hers was full of selfish envy and lust. Yet it was somehow love to her all the same. John also knew her very well. She was his neighbor, the woman who had them arrested.

“Daniel, please. You’re going to hurt yourself. Just sit down.” Daniel sat down without wanting to, almost as if he was forced to against his will by an invisible force. But for the moment, he just ignored it.

“I thought you loved me, Agnes. Why would you put the one you love in shackles and have executed?” Daniel asked. Though honestly, he didn’t care. He just wanted to piss her off.

“I _do_ love you, Daniel. More than you could never know, actually. That’s why I’m doing this. You are _sinning_ , and I want to save you. If you admit you’re wrong before the eyes of the King, your soul will be saved instead of on a path to Hell. Just tell me Daniel, tell me you didn’t sin with that man.” Her voice was soft, the false sort of soft that imitates innocence to try and trick others into thinking they’re the victims. Yet Daniel would never fall into her trap.

“Sin? By sin do you mean kissing him, feeling his heartbeat against mine? Do you mean tracing my lips across every inch of his body, knowing it from memory with my hands?” Daniel stood up again, his voice getting lower and angrier by the second. “Do you mean spending countless hours in the night with him, bare as the day I was born and letting pleasure seep through my veins? Do you mean being in love with another human being and letting him touch me the way I never would let a woman do? The way I would never let _you_ do? Let me make something known, Agnes. You speak of sin and Hell when you yourself have done nothing but cause Hell and sin in other’s lives. I could have intercourse with a thousand men and you will still be the greater evil of us both.”

Agnes stepped forward so she was pressing against the bars, rage practically pouring from her eyes and mouth. “How _dare_ you! You, Daniel Howell, know nothing of who or what I am! And you can be sure that speaking to me in such way will have consequences. I am better than you will ever be, you should feel blessed to attract the attention of me! For this, you will pay. I can assure you, you will never see your lover again. I will make sure of it.” Daniel could have sworn that her eyes glowed red for a couple seconds before Agnes turned on her heel and left the cells, leaving him confused.

Daniel sat back against one of the stone walls and looked at the ceiling, pondering what on Earth Agnes could have meant by her statement. “See your lover again…” He wondered out loud. “But he’s going to die. And I'm a walking dead man, so what would be the point of a curse?” Before he could sort it out for himself, a man’s voice interjected his one sided conversation.

“She means in your future lives.”

Daniel nearly jumped out of his skin, he thought he was alone. “Who said that?”

“I did. Look through the cell window. I’m on your right.” Daniel stood up and peered through a small barred window on his right into another cell where a tall man with wild curly hair sat in the corner. “Hello. I’m Peter James, and you must be Daniel from what that lovely witch said.”

“Yes, that’s me. But what do you mean, ‘future lives’?”

“It means exactly what it states. I’m not calling her a witch just to insult her, you know. She’s an actual witch, cauldron and everything. And she’s obviously cursing your reincarnations. We all have many lives, my friend. And if the man you love is truly your soulmate, it means you’ll meet again in another life. She wants to stop your future self from finding him ever again. That’s the thing about us witches, we’re immortal and can do shit like that.”

“Wait, _us_ witches? Are you a witch? Is that why you’re in here?”

Peter James just laughed. “Yes, I’m a witch. But no, I’m in here for the same reason as you. I got caught with my male lover. I hope it isn’t always like this.”

“I see.” Daniel paused for a second, trying to figure out how he could turn the conversation back around to the topic of him being cursed. “Is there anything you can do?”

“Not currently, I’ll just wait till they unshackle me though, then I’ll use a spell to-”

“Not about your escape, Peter. About me being cursed forever, you know, how I can never be with my soulmate again?”

“Hmm.” Peter rubbed his chin. “Well I can’t uncurse you, if that’s what you want.” Daniel’s face fell. “But I _can_ bless you with memory.”

“What the Hell is that.”

“You will remember every single life you’ve ever lived, starting with this one. That way you can remember to find your soulmate before Agnes stops it.”

“Can you? I would do anything to see him again.” Daniel thought about John for a moment, how scared he must have been sitting alone in his dark cell, death surely awaiting him. He nearly started crying just thinking about his love, but he swallowed his tears to look serious for Peter James.

“Of course. Stick your arm through the bars as far as you can.” He stood up and walked towards the small window and Daniel did as he asked, sticking his arm between the bars as far as his elbow. Peter grabbed the other boy’s forearm and nodded his head for him to do the same. Afraid but curious, Daniel once again did as he asked. He looked down at their arms and muttered a few words in a different language, one Daniel couldn’t understand, and his eyes began to glow a bright teal colour. The light spread from his eyes and enveloped around their arms, warming their skin slightly. Just as soon as it began, it was over and Peter James let go of Daniel’s arm. “It is done.”

“Thank you so much. You cannot comprehend how grateful I am for this. Tell me, Peter James, will we meet again?”

The curly haired man smiled warmly. “That is entirely up to you, Daniel. But I sincerely hope so.”

The rest of the night was filled with silence and fear, fear of what the morning would bring. By the time daylight seeped in through the windows, the guards were already talking about how many commoners came to watch the hanging of the four homosexuals caught in the act. Daniel was the first to be hung, not even giving him the chance to have one last look at the man he loved. But if what Peter James said was true, then he was sure to see him again. The rope scratched his face as they slid the noose around his neck, the executioner not caring to be gentle with such an abomination. It was crisp winter morning. Snow was still on the ground and everyone’s faces were pink as spring strawberries; you could see the breath of the crowd that gathered. Daniel studied the faces of the commoners, just to see if he knew anyone. There was a seamstress that lived down the road from him, a disapproving look on her face. The butcher was there as well, shouting horrid insults at the top of his lungs. They used to be friends.

And of course, there was Agnes in the front. She had a smirk on her face, the one that seemed to say _I win, you lose._ But she would never guess what Daniel had planned the minute since Peter had blessed him. He would find John again. And he would fall in love a million times over.


	2. 2015

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The sun will rise but the moon won't fall, and I will still be trapped, wishing for you, somewhere between living and dreaming." -d.j

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs for this chapter:  
> Out of My Head by Theory of a Deadman  
> Madness by Muse

_I, I can't get these memories out of my mind, and some kind of madness has started to evolve. I, I tried so hard to let you go, but some kind of madness is swallowing me whole._

Dan awoke to the familiar sound of his Muse alarm, chiming from across his bedroom with the niche of waking him for work. He groaned from underneath his comforters, completely content with skipping the first part of work to sleep in longer, but eventually crawled from the warmth of his bed to shut off the alarm. He could never sleep with music, not even when Matt Bellamy's voice was lulling him on. Once he shut off his phone, he considered going back to bed but quickly decided against it, as he always did. _Today could be the day_. He thought to himself.

They started just as dreams when he was a child, dreams of a man that looked like him and another that had eyes bluer than the sky. Then they were more than that; they became memories. The same way you remember your first day of primary school, or how a girl with red pigtails thought you were cute in the third grade. What Dan remembered were impossible things he couldn’t have, and it messed with his mind. He remembers the Thirty Years’ War, the American Revolution. He can recall every detail of the uproar when the first steam engine was invented, just as he can when World War II began. His life was full of memories from the past, _his_ past. Everything he saw and felt in his past incarnations, he could cite in an instant. However it wasn’t always a gift.

As a boy in 1934, Dan made the mistake of telling his professor about the dreams and memories he saw. He thought he could trust the man, but he was so naïve. He later found himself in a mental institution locked up for schizophrenia. They practically tortured him and it was only when they needed soldiers for war years later that they released him. That life was one he wished he never lived. Nevertheless, the time spent fighting in trenches paid off, as that was where he met a young man named Charlie Dennis with blue eyes and ginger brown hair. He looked just like the other men he had dreamt of before, and he grew to love him. Despite where his confession led to, though, Daniel learned his lesson. Keep the memories to yourself.

Dan yanked open his dresser drawer and searched for clean clothes. He hadn’t done the laundry in about a week so he settled for a white button down instead of his usual all-black attire. From the closet, he tugged a pair of black jeans from a hanger and pulled them on searching for a belt to hold them up in the process. It’s not like his co-workers actually _cared_ about the way he dressed, they hardly even spoke to him let alone paid any attention to his fashion choices. Besides, Dan didn’t particularly care about what others thought either.

He always had a “stick it to the man” aura going on, with the mentality of someone who was fed up with the world. In reality, he was a shy creature so even if his co-workers did say something rude he wouldn’t even respond, just blush and walk away. He was kind as well, to the few souls that treated him with respect. When provoked, he could be as venomous as a serpent if he wanted, and life sure gave him plenty of opportunities. Dan was always convinced that his parents hated him, and when he came out as gay to them they proved his theory. His mother cried as his father shouted toxic words at him, aiming far below the belt. In truth this had happened many times before, as he had the luck to be incarnated with homophobic parents more than once. Yet the repeated words still stung as if they were fresh wounds, and he left his home with tears in his eyes. Eventually he changed his name from Winston Samuel Smith to the one he always cared for, the first name he could remember. Daniel James Howell.

Dan glanced at his phone to check the time. 7:28. He had roughly half an hour to finish getting ready for work then actually _go_ to work. If there was one thing Dan wasn’t, it was organized. And on time, he was never on time. Quickly but carefully, he straightened his curly hair he hated so much and ate an apple for breakfast, grabbing the keys to his flat before slipping out the door. The February nipped at his skin, the promise of Spring just in the distance. Dan knew how to drive, but there was no way he could afford a car, so he walked to work every morning. It was only a couple of streets over, but in the winter it felt like kilometers. At least he had the relief of a warm work environment when he arrived.

He worked at a restaurant as a waiter called _the Boulangerie_ , but despite its french name was a very casual, home-cooked soup type of eatery. It had low ceilings with dark oak beams and light fixtures made to look old and give off warm lighting. Paintings of bread and vineyards in the Loire Valley in France decorated the cream coloured walls, and false leaves were everywhere to add character. A fire was always lit in the cobblestone fireplace, especially in the winter, giving off an earthy smell that mixed with the scent of freshly baked bread from the kitchens. It was small, but to Dan, it was home. He was just a waiter there, making just over minimum wage, but one day he hoped to be chef in the kitchens. He loved the smell of dough before it was cooked, and the feel of it when kneading it with his bare hands. The taste of home cooked soups with ripe tomatoes and crisp celery dancing on his tongue like fairies. Baking was always what he loved to do, ever since his first life.

Dan wasn’t always a waiter for the restaurant, though. On breaks, he would roam over to the beautiful mahogany grand piano in the corner of the establishment and play a piece or two. The customers liked the way he played so much that eventually they started paying him to play piano. He enjoyed playing as well. The way his slender fingers glided over the spruce keys and created a tune that would give any other pianist a run for their money, it made Dan feel like he was king of the world. Those were his two true passions, music and food. If he couldn’t have one, he’d have the other.

The oak door swung open without a sound as Dan walked in, taking off his black parka and hanging it on a hook with his name labeled above it. Two of the other waiters were already there and all the cooks had started to make their most popular breakfast dishes. He walked to the washroom to clean his hands before touching any platters, an establishment policy, and got a whiff of baguettes being pulled from the oven. The scent was almost enough to make him melt n the spot. He decided that getting out of bed that morning was the right idea. Once he was done washing his hands, he dried them with soft paper towels enough so there was no wetness left. He looked in the mirror studying his reflection and sighed. _Today could be the day_. He thought.

Ever since he began to understand the dream memories, his whole life led up to when he met the boy with blue eyes. No matter what century or what name he had, the boy was the one that belonged in Dan’s life. Every incarnation he could remember involved falling in love with a tall man with pale skin, arctic eyes, and a heart bigger than the Earth. He couldn’t remember his past lives like Dan could, so his name changed and it was harder to find him. In 1541, it was John Lloyd, Oscar Bernard in 1776, James Bow in 1972. Who knew what name he would have this time around, it could be anything from John Smith to Benedict Cumberbatch. Probably not Benedict Cumberbatch. When Dan met him for the first time in his lives, he would always be taken away by his beauty. Even if he’d known him for practically hundreds of years, it would never stomp his attraction to the boy.

The only problem with their love was the difference of ignorance between them. Dan always knew that they were destined to be together and had seen all of his past lives right before his eyes. The boy, however, had no idea of the past. He knew nothing of how long Dan had waited for their meeting, and he never told him. Dan was scared that if he told him he would think less of him or perhaps change his mind about how he felt. When he was locked up in 1934 for telling his past, Dan was given yet another reason to keep quiet about it. He never wanted the boy to know.

He left the washroom and headed to the break room to retrieve his apron: a mandatory clothing article for all waiters and waitresses. Tying the light brown fabric around his neck and waist, Dan walked to the dining room and waited for his manager to flip the _open_ sign on the window. Slowly, customers arrived and sat down for breakfast with Dan and the others serving them. Breakfast was busier than it normally is for other restaurants at the Boulangerie due to the fact that there was an inn across the road from it. The location was perfect.

By the time his waiter shift was over, Dan was exhausted from human interaction and longed to do something other than tell middle aged couples about the specials. He folded up his apron in the break room but instead of leaving went back into the mean room towards the piano. A few of the people stopped to watch him stroll up to the instrument, but it didn’t bother him. He sat down on the slightly creaking bench and paused for a few seconds, mentally debating on what piece he should play. Finally, he went with Liebesträume by Franz Liszt. The beginning forte caught the customers’ attention and the graduation into fortissimo led to an audible gasp from some of the people with musical appreciation. Dan didn’t even notice their reactions, he was too engulfed in the music to pay any mind to the outside world. The song was written for unities of lovers, old flames and new romances. Even if the building caught fire Dan likely wouldn’t have noticed. Thoughts of bright blue eyes and nights spent long ago were dominating his mind, and he let them. Because even when exhaust and discomfort closed in on him, Dan always sought the feel of memories with him. And he always found just the right ones to lift his spirit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, Liebesträume is an actual piano piece written for lovers and it translates to Dreams of Love.


	3. An Old Face in a New Place

Work was over around 6:30 and Dan had just enough time to run to the store for more food before getting back to his flat and scrolling through tumblr. That’s basically what he did when he wasn’t working: social media and television. He didn’t have many friends, more or less due to the facts that he wasn’t social and he ran away and changed his name. Of course Dan _wanted_ friends, but sometimes it was too hard to let others accept you. Even introverts get lonely sometimes.

With his black parka drawn around him, Dan trudged through the pavements filled fill people and tried to avoid snow and pedestrians all together which proved to be impossible. Either he walked in the snow-covered grass alone or he let his shoes be dry and get bumped into by countless amounts of elderly women and carefree teenagers. Most days he really could not win. Eventually he arrived at a small neighborhood grocery store he frequently shopped at and stomped his snowy shoes on the rug before entering. It was warmer inside so he took his coat off. The store was small but not too small in the way that you could touch the walls by running around but everything you wanted was in stock. Most people would go to the name brand grocery markets with expensive prices and a ceiling so enormous that Big Ben could fit in it, but smaller was better in Dan’s world. The florescent lighting wasn’t as harsh there, and the employees actually took time to replace the flickering bulbs with better ones. Good thing too, as it gave Dan a massive headache just standing under them. There was only one other person in the store besides the cashier which was an older woman. She was bundled up very tightly because of the cold and had practically thrown all of the canned soups into her cart. Dan chuckled under his breath, admiring her determination to beat winter.

He started down the first row of goods, not looking for anything in particular and just grabbing what he thought wouldn’t taste horrible. A can of beans, pre-sliced ham, frozen enchiladas, tea. Eating healthy definitely wasn’t a number one priority in Dan’s book, as long as it was cheap food, he would eat it. It’s not as if he couldn’t afford fancy vegetables and fresh fruits, because he definitely could, it’s just he ate a lot of food and buying more expensive items would mean getting less of them. And he wasn’t at all ready for that. So after about ten minutes he waltzed up to the register with three bags of crisps, ramen noodles, canned soup, and a load of other crappy junk food. Thank God for his fast metabolism.

The self-checkout machine was of course broken, so he had to use what was left of his social willingness to talk to the person working the cash register, a young man with curly hair who seemed perfectly content with keeping his head down for the rest of the day. One by one, the man scanned Dan’s items and never said a word whilst doing it. It might've been a bit impolite, but who was Dan to call out someone on their lack of socializing? If it weren’t for his job he’d probably be a hermit who’d play Mario Kart and Skyrim all day. As the last item was put into a bag, Dan pulled out his wallet to pay for the food. Suddenly he realized that he _actually_ had enough cash to pay for it. He almost always paid with a card, but if he could pay with cash then that would make his day. For one thing he didn’t have to sign anything. Since he’d never paid with cash before, he wondered if the store even took it as payment.

“Sorry, did you want me to pay with cash or card? A lot of stores around here don’t take cash so…” He piped up.

Without even looking up, the cashier replied. “That is entirely up to you.”

With that confirmation, Dan grabbed his grocery bag and started to pull out his bills when he noticed something. The way the man said what he just did sounded so familiar. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Did he remind him of someone? Had he met him before? Had he said that to him before? _Oh my God_. Dan dropped the bag and didn’t even react when crisps went flying at his trainers.

“Peter James.”

The curly haired man looked up. He had turquoise green eyes, dark thick eyebrows, and a thin nose that widened near the nostrils. The exact image of the witch Daniel met over 400 years ago.

“No one’s called me that in a very long time.” A look of anger displayed across his face, yet his eyes harbored absolute fear. It was almost as if he was expecting someone to find him but couldn’t believe they actually did. Peter reached down below him as if to grab something all while keeping his eyes on Dan. Fearing the worst, Dan threw his arms up in a surrendering motion.

“Wait! Stop! I’m Daniel! Daniel Howell? Remember me?” He was nearly panicking, convinced that the witch would curse him into a fly or something of the sort.

Peter slowly put his hand back onto the counter, still unsure of Dan’s intentions. “Daniel? The boy I blessed almost five centuries ago?”

“Yes. You blessed me with memories, that’s how I know who you are.”

“Ah I see. Sorry about that, I didn’t expect to see a familiar face, especially from that long ago.” He smiled, clearly pleased to see him again. “By the way, Peter James isn’t my name anymore. It’s a bit long and boring. It’s just PJ now. Look, I get off in like five minutes, do you wanna catch up?” Dan nearly had whiplash from PJ’s quick changes in attitude. From antisocial, to hostile, to friendly. Nonetheless, he really wanted to know more about the immortal.

“That sounds great. I was planning on making dinner soon, do you want to come to mine and eat?”

“Absolutely.” Dan cleaned up his mess from dropping his bag and shrugged his coat on, waiting for his friend outside. Something about meeting him gave him hope, like this time around wouldn’t be as bad as the others. Things could actually be better.

*

"So,” PJ started, swirling his tea with a spoon. “How’s life been?” The boys had laboured through the snow up to Dan’s flat and Dan had started cooking dinner, not before making tea of course.

“It’s been...okay. Definitely not the dream but not _complete_ Hell.” “This life or the past ones?” “All of them. Somehow I always end up in shitty situations. But hey, at least I’m used to it by now.”

“That sucks.” PJ took a sip of his tea. “Let me guess, parents not being supportive? I’ll tell you, when I first got caught with another boy mine went absolutely ballistic. Then again that was 1132 so I suppose times have changed at least a little.”

“Yeah I suppose. Wait a second, how old are you?” Dan put down the pot he was inspecting and turned around to look at PJ who was sitting at the counter on a bar stool.

He grinned and puffed out his chest. “I’ll be 900 this December. You know, the funny thing is I didn’t like birthdays at all. I thought it was a year closer to death. But now I can’t die, so what the hell? I mean I still don’t like em that much but at least they don’t depress me.”

Dan laughed a bit louder than he should of. Even at 900 PJ could still act like a teenager. He wondered how much he’d seen, being a witness to a good portion of history and all. Dan sure does remember all that he’d seen, and he can’t say it still doesn’t affect him. Every time a car backfires he still sees Normandy on D day. No one could get out of that without a few scars.

“So tell me, Dan.” PJ began, shaking Dan away from his thoughts. “What’s your real name? I mean, it was Daniel in the 1500’s so how is it the same now? Unless it’s a coincidence then that’s pretty rad.”

Dan turned back to the stove and snorted. “It’s not. I changed it to Daniel Howell after I ran away from home. And no, I’m not telling you what it actually is. It’s horrible.”

PJ pouted. “Oh come on! Please?” Dan shook his head, still laughing. “You know, I could use a truth spell on you. Then you can tell me _everything_.” He wiggled his eyebrows, causing Dan to laugh even more.

“You really wanna know? Fine. It’s Winston Smith. Happy?”

PJ nearly spit out his tea. “Winston? You’ve got to be kidding me! That’s hilarious!”

“Wow, thanks Peej! You’re such a great friend!” Dan rolled his eyes to add to the sarcasm but laughed a little as well. It _was_ quite a ridiculous name.

Before he knew it, the timer went off signaling the pasta being ready. Dan retrieved two bowls and poured the spiral noodles into them along with vodka sauce and ham bits. Sticking two forks into the bowls, Dan headed out of the kitchen and into the lounge to sit on the couch where PJ followed him to. He handed him a bowl and then bumped his up against his friend’s producing a light _ping_ sound.

“Bon appetite.” PJ eyed the pasta suspiciously before taking a bite, whereas Dan had already shoved a fourth of his bowl’s portion into his mouth. He took time to process the taste of it which worried Dan slightly, but eventually his face lit up.

“That’s delicious! Are you sure that you made that? Not because you look like someone who cooks poorly, just because that tastes extremely professional.” PJ rushed.

Dan smiled at his friend’s compliment. “Well, I do have years of experience.”

PJ snapped his fingers. “Right.”

The two boys finished their meals (with PJ eating three servings) but stayed longer with each other simply to talk about what’s happened to them. Dan was fascinated by the history PJ had seen and taken part of and PJ wanted to know every detail of Dan’s lives like a gossip show host. It actually amused Dan more than offend him. Eventually, it became late and PJ needed to return to his own flat. With the way he acted, it seemed as though he had a guy himself waiting for him. When Dan asked about it, all he did was wink. So they said their “goodnights” and departed, PJ back to his home and Dan retreating into his own. He decided that it was a good night, a good night indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dish that Dan made is an actual dish and it's really good despite the description! Just wanted to add that in case any of you cared


	4. A Meeting in London

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs for this chapter:  
> Dark Paradise by Lana Del Rey  
> I'm not even joking when I say it took me 7 hours to write this chapter. (I also laughed a lot when writing it) I hope you enjoy it :3

The sun was already up by the time Dan slithered out of bed, creeping through the curtains and creating a golden glow throughout his flat. There was little noise outside as well. Very rarely was there construction in the winter time and traffic on the weekends allowing Dan to sleep in without the interruption of drills and car horns, but more importantly without sirens. He hated the sirens with a burning passion, ringing loudly and disturbing his street, but it seemed that no one had any “dire emergencies” that morning therefore no alarms sounded. It was as peaceful as his dreams were, and for a moment he believed he still was dreaming.

It was one of those days that held endless possibilities, a day that fills a person with optimism. Whether Dan sat on his sofa all day and played video games or he went to an amusement park, it seemed that he would be content no matter what. It was, after all, Saturday. Yet there was something else as well; a feeling in the pit of his stomach that something was about to happen. An instinct deep inside had woken up and was shouting at Dan in an untranslatable tongue, attempting to warn or excite him but instead confusing him. Nonetheless, he felt as if it would be a good day.

Dan walked into his lounge in fleece pyjama bottoms and wooly socks whilst pulling a tee-shirt over his head, still a bit sleepy from hibernation. Before he sat down on the couch he made himself a cup of coffee then proceeded to pick up his phone. Dan didn’t know why he checked his messages, rarely anyone texted him, but he did anyway.

As it happens, there was one message from PJ: “Good morning! Hope you’re off work cause it wouldn’t it be great it we all went to town? Oh and remember that ‘guy’ you asked about? Well I think you should meet him, seeing if he can walk after the night we had.” Dan laughed in disgust. He may have been an adult, but sex talk still made him uncomfortable. It might have had something to do with the fact that he was a virgin himself.

Clicking reply, Dan typed back “That would be cool. As long as you two keep it in your pants. Noon at SB?” Soon after sending the text, PJ responded. “Sounds good, and no promises about the pants thing ;)” Dan could practically feel his eyes roll into the back of his head. Who cares if Peej was a 900 year old immortal? He was still a child. 

Glancing at the clock on his mobile, Dan realized that he shouldn’t have said noon. Sure he was known for sleeping late, but 11:15 was a new record for him.

“Shit.”

He shot up from the sofa and bolted to his room. Striving to get ready in time for meeting up, he threw on whatever the first article of clothing on top of the piles in his drawers was. Straightening his hair at the last minute, Dan left his flat at 11:30. Continuing his magnificent stroke of luck, he managed to get a cab who took him straight to where he wanted to go, no detours or anything. When he stepped into Starbucks it was noon exactly. For once in his life he wasn’t late.

The smell of coffee, caramel, and chocolate greeted Dan at the door, an aroma of sweetness engulfing him. It was rather large for a Starbucks with plenty of arm chairs, sofas, and even an upstairs balcony looking down at the floor below. There was a great amount of lamps in the establishment yet teacup candles were placed on every table, some lit, some not. It was Dan’s third favourite place in all of London, right behind the Boulangerie and his flat. It didn’t quite feel like home, but more so a serene place away from home.

He sat on a pale red armchair with his legs over the arm and waited for his friends. About a minute after watching people order their drinks and small children press their hands up against the glass, he felt someone thump him on the shoulder.

“Oi! Were you raised in a barn?” Dan turned around to see an average height man with shaggy light brown hair grinning at him and PJ rolling his eyes beside him.

“Yep. My mother was a cow, after all.” Chris snorted and laughed in a higher pitch, making it sound almost like giggling.

“So I guess you’ve met Chris now.” PJ stated.

Chris stuck out his arm and straightened his back imitating a soldier.“Pleasure to meet you, Dan. PJ’s told me a lot about you.”

Dan shook his hand awkwardly. “Same.” Chris laughed again. It was as if everything was a joke to him.Once the other boys sat down, Dan began to stand up to order a coffee when PJ stopped him.

“Don’t worry, my treat.” He insisted.

“Oh Peej,” Chris fake swooned. “How chivalrous! What a gentleman!” PJ rolled his eyes again but ruined it by smiling, giving into Chris’ shenanigans.

“Save it, you prick.”

“Oo, I do love it when you get dominant.” Dan felt as if he were about to vomit. PJ laughed and leaned down for a quick kiss before walking off to order the group some coffee.

“Well you two certainly are a couple. No mistaking that. How long have you been together?” Dan asked politely.

Chris smiled. “Let’s see, so it’s February now that makes it… 600 years? Yeah that sounds about right.”

Dan nearly choked on nothing. “600 years?! Holy shit, man! That’s something.”

Chris just shrugged. “Yeah, we just never really split up.”

“Does that mean that you’re a witch too?”

“God no. Just Peej. I’m a regular old fashioned immortal. He made me this way after we first met so I didn’t age whilst he stayed young. I know, so romantic.”

“Oh.” Dan pondered silently for a moment. “So how much exactly did he tell you about me?”

“A bit. Apparently you were there when we got captured in the 1540’s, or at least you in another incarnation. Also you have ‘the memories’ which is pretty sick.”

“Anything else?”

“Well he did say something about you searching for your long-lost boyfriend. But not much else since we started going at it and he was moaning so loud-”

“Oh my God please stop.” Dan nearly shouted. He could feel his cheeks heating up, he couldn’t believe Chris was actually talking about that in public.

“What? Does sex make you nervous or something? You know, PJ and I could teach you a little something.”

“Are you actually suggesting a threesome?” Dan laughed. He thought Chris was joking, but seeing as he was unpredictable he might not have been.

“Oh there’s PJ now.” Chris pointed. PJ was walking towards them with his hands in his pockets done with ordering their drinks. Chris grinned at him. “Hey Peej can we-”

“No.”

“You didn’t even know what I was going to ask!”

“Well Dan looks scared so I know it can’t be good.” Chris huffed and slumped down in his chair which earned a laugh from Dan. “Excuse him of his manners, they’re nonexistent.”

“It’s fine. I just don’t know when he’s kidding or not.”

“Neither does he.” Before Dan could reply, a barista set three cups of coffee onto the counter.

"Winston!” She yelled.

Dan looked at PJ with mock anger and betrayal whilst him and Chris erupted into giggles. After a full 10 seconds of laughing Dan stood up and retrieved the coffee all still scowling. Finally after they were done Chris piped up.

“Oh yeah, he also told me about that.”

*

They stayed in the cafe for three hours, much to the manager’s displeasure. The whole time was spent laughing about Dan, provoking PJ, and dodging Chris’ great deal of innuendos. It was time well spent in Dan’s mind, in all of their minds actually. At last they all pulled on their coats and walked out into the bitter crisp air, all they way to the nearest pub that is. Dan couldn’t remember whose idea it was, as it certainly wasn’t his, but he still went along with it. He has a strong feeling it was Chris’ as he vaguely remembers him telling him they were “going to get him laid.” What an interesting person he was.

The bar wasn’t nearly as loud as Dan expected and no flashing coloured lights were in sight. He realized he was thinking of a club, not a pub. The place one of them chose was a gay bar called _The Crown_ and it was the most alien place he’d ever been. Granted he had never been to a real tavern before, he always went to cheap “bar and grill” type places, but the sheer look and vibe of the place made him feel like a foreigner in his own country. Dark mahogany made up almost everything, the chairs, the tables, the railings, everything except the floor which was light coloured cedar. The walls were painted a rich crimson and small white spotlights hung from the ceilings, illuminating the otherwise dark space.

The group of three sat down at the bar in little stools that barely held them up, the small things, and ordered beers all around. It was still early in the afternoon, so not as many people were gathered. Just four lads, some older men, a few lesbians, and a boy with dirty blond hair and a boy with darker hair sitting at a table in the corner. _Probably a couple_ , Dan assumed. To be quite frank, if Dan did hook up with anybody that night, he certainly wouldn’t find them in that bar. He resented lad culture, the men were too old, attraction stop both ways with the girls, and the others were a couple. Besides, he felt that waiting for his soulmate was romantic. That’s what he told Chris and PJ, but they just hushed him and said it was because he was nervous. There was no way of him getting out of it.

“Pst. Dan. What about him? He’s pretty hot.” Chris nodded his head towards one of the lads.

“He looks like he’s eighteen, you pedophile.”

“Doesn’t mean he’s not hot.” For that Chris earned a kick from PJ.

“Come on guys, it’s way too early in the day to pick up dudes. Can’t we come back later? We could see a film or something?” Dan was fidgeting in his stool, not liking the idea of getting drunk before 4 o’clock anyway.

“Dan, listen to me very carefully.” Chris crooked his finger and Dan leaned in close. “You’re such a buzzkill.” Dan leaned back and frowned. He thought he would’ve given some advice, but after all it was Chris so what did expect?

“He’s right, Dan. You need to have some fun for once! It seems to me like all you do is sit at home or go to work. If you don’t have fun you’ll explode! Trust me I do science.” Chris nodded in agreement eagerly. “Seriously, man. Just do something you want to do. There’s no need to keep the pressure of this ‘fate’ of yours forever.”

Dan looked down into the bottle of Killian’s Irish Red he was drinking. They did have a point. Finally he sighed. “Fuck it. I’m up for anything.” Chris and PJ cheered and whooped for his reply earning a couple of looks from the men to which PJ turned around and apologized.

“So,” Chris started. “Who’s it gonna be? You have your pick of the liter, mate.”

“Now? Are you sure? No one’s exactly ‘my type’ in here…”

“They don’t have to be ‘your type.’ You just have to get drunk enough and then everyone’ll look like Tom Hiddleston. How do you think I got myself to sleep with PJ?” Chris received another kick to the shins from PJ. “Oi! I’m phoning the domestic abuse centre if you don’t quit it!”

“I’m petrified. But honestly, Dan. Just have fun with it. You don’t have to _date_ the guy.” PJ offered.

Dan thought for a second. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Great! Cause I’ve been scoping out one of those guys over there who I think you’d have a great time with. He can’t be younger than twenty. I say go for it.” Dan glanced over at the guy PJ was talking about. He was about Chris’ height with lightly tanned skin and blond hair, chiseled muscles to complete the look. One-hundred percent not Dan’s type, but he couldn’t deny that muscles like that were good for something.

“Alright.” He announced. “I’ll go for it!”

“That’s the spirit!” PJ cheered.

“Remember: smile and bat your lashes! They love that shit!” Dan couldn’t see but assumed from the muffled “oof” that Chris had been kicked a third time by PJ.

Dan threw back the rest of his beer and set the bottle down, scooting away from the bar and standing up. With the full intention to head to the lads’ table, he took three large, confident steps with his head held high before smacking headfirst into another person and plummeted to the floor. His head slammed down on the cedar floorboards with such a great force that his vision blurred for a couple seconds and the other man’s phone skittered across the floor and ended up hitting him right in his temple. An audible gasp from around the tavern could be heard as well as the groans of pain from both of the boys. Their limbs were tangled, beer was spilled on them, it was a mess.

“I’m so sorry!” The man yelped. He managed to untangle himself and was pulling Dan up by the arms to try and steady him. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” he grumbled after standing up. Looking over at the lads, Dan could see that they were all snickering at his spill. “Just fine.”

“I really am sorry. I was playing this game on my phone and I didn’t see you getting up. I promise I didn’t try and sabotage you night on purpose, I swear. I’m Phil.” Out of the corner of his eye Dan saw Phil stick out his hand for him to shake.

Tearing his eyes away from the boys, Dan looked at Phil and shook his hand. “I’m Dan.” It was the first time he actually had a good look at the man and then Dan realized something. He gasped. Icy blue eyes, pale skin, hooked nose, except instead of ginger hair, dyed black took its place. Phil’s face was all too familiar, as if he had dreamt about him for ages. It was because he had.

“John?” Dan whispered.

“What was that?”

“I said, er, gone. You’re mobile’s gone. It flew into my head, if I recall.” Dan managed to recover.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry about that.” Phil looked down guiltily.

Dan chuckled. “You say sorry a lot.”

“Sorry- crap.” Phil blushed and Dan laughed even more.

“No worries, it’s alright. Do you want to- have a drink?” He paused slightly before delivering the full question, almost as if he was afraid of rejection.

Phil smiled. “I would like that.” Dan smiled back before leading him to the bar just out of reach from Chris and PJ. _Finally_ , he thought. Phil started to tell him stories of just how clumsy he was and how that wasn’t the first time something like that had happened. _I’ve waited for you for so long_. Dan smiled and listened to the man. _You have no idea._


	5. An Extraordinary Night

“So you do you live here in London?” Dan asked the man sitting next to him.

Phil nodded. “Yeah, I just moved here from Manchester last week, actually.”

“Cool.”

Dan and Phil were sitting at the bar in _The Crown_ , a macho looking gay bar, at 4:30 in the afternoon just talking. Both of them had ordered beers and were currently drinking them slowly and discussing each other. Phil wanted to know everything about Dan and so did he, except for a different reason. Phil was a curious man and genuinely took an interest in others, whilst Dan was just way too excited to finally meet his soulmate. The only thing that diminished his excitement, though, was the knowledge that Phil hadn’t come alone.

“So that guy you came with… are you two a thing?” Dan asked carefully.

Phil laughed. “Oh, Connor? No, he’s just a friend. Visiting from the states, actually. Why?”

“Er, no reason.” Phil smiled, trying to tell Dan that it was obvious he liked him. Dan blushed bright pink. “Do you want me to show you around town? There are some pretty cool places that the tourist guide doesn’t tell.”

“I’d like that. But I need to use the toilet first, if you don’t mind.”

“No, not at all.”

“Right, I’ll be back in a sec.” Phil scooted away from the bar still smiling at Dan and headed to the washroom with Dan watching him leave. He wasn’t alone for long, however, as he was soon joined by Chris and PJ swarming him with grinning faces.

“Nicely done! You know I thought since you wiped out you’d have a lesser chance but he’s cute too.” Chris acknowledged.

“Yeah that was some recovery, Dan. And you look pretty into him from the way you’re looking at him, Mr. Heart-Eyes over here.” PJ joked.

“That’s cause it’s _him_. He’s _the one_ , guys. I just didn’t recognize him without ginger hair and glasses.” Dan whispered excitedly.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah!”

“Well then you should thank us. Not only are we going to get you laid but you also got your man!”

“Chris-”

“But it’s no wonder you like him, I mean he’s pretty hot. If I were you I’d waste no time getting into those skinny jeans wow.”

“Chris!”

“What?” Chris turned around and saw that Phil had come back from the bathroom, laughing awkwardly from what he said. Dan was blushing bright red with his hands covering his face and PJ was scowling at him. “Oops.” He winced.

“I’m PJ.” Said the scowling PJ, breaking the embarrassing silence. “And that’s Chris. He’s an asshole but we’ve just kind of accepted it now.” It was Chris’ turn to scowl now.

“Alright, Phil we should get going now.” Dan urged and slid back from the bar, taking Phil’s arm and moving towards the door.

“It was nice to meet you, Phil!” Chris shouted after them.

“You too!” He managed to get those two words out between laughing and being practically dragged out of the door. Dan was trying with all his might not to embarrass himself any more and the further he got away from Chris meant the less of a chance he would say something about him in front of Phil. Even if Dan had known him forever, Phil had only just met him. And without a clue about them being soulmates, he could easily ditch him for another guy who was less awkward than him. Dan just hoped it all went smoothly this time around. God knows it hadn’t before.

*

The air wasn’t as bitter cold as it had been earlier, instead it was chilled and brought an atmosphere of freshness to the city. Fluffy, powder snow was scattered on the pavements beneath the boys and the blue-grey sky above them held a promise for more. Golden red rays of the setting sun outlined the people rushing about on the Saturday night and a sense of sonder filled the air. Where could these people possibly be going, were they looking forward to a house party, or a silent night alone? Did they have their own loves in their own lives to worry about, to kiss and to hold in the night? Dan hoped so. He was the type of person who wanted others to feel his joy, specifically the joy he was feeling as he walked close to Phil. Too close to be innocent in fact.

Their hands bumped silently against each others yet neither one of them pulled away; Dan was itching to hold his hand. _Calm yourself, Dan._ He thought. _You’ve only just met him, there’s no need to do anything rash._ They walked down a semi busy road with Dan pointing out small shops and Phil smiling and nodding until they reached a tunneled alley with a path of cobblestone. As Dan turned to walk down it, Phil stopped.

“Are we going down there?” He asked in a tone that sounded scared.

“Yeah. It’s a shortcut to where this amazing cafe is. Only a handful of people know how to get to it, but it’s worth it.”

Phil shuffled. “Uh, are you sure we can’t go another way?”

Dan smiled. “Do you think I’m going to murder you or something?”

“No! But someone else might.”

Dan extended his hand to Phil and smiled warmly. “Do you trust me?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“Just yes or no?”

Phil seemed to ponder for a moment on what would happen for each answer he would give. Finally, he drew in a breath and took Dan’s hand. “Yes.”

Dan smiled so brightly he could practically feel an aura of sunshine surrounding both of them. “Alright.” He answered. “Then run!”

Phil looked confused for a millisecond but when Dan started sprinting down the alley full speed, he understood. Still holding onto his hand, Phil ran alongside and the effects nearly took his breath away. The sound of their shoes on stone echoed all around, on the walls, the ceiling. It was like a metronome ticking away keeping time to silent music in the world; it was mesmerizing. Along with the sound of their running, a delightful wind whipped around them with the force of the sea yet gentleness of soft touches. Phil’s hair flew back and he could feel his face numb with cold but he didn’t mind. The feeling of it was phenomenal and just about indescribable. In the end he figured out what it felt like. It felt like flying.

They reached the end of the tunnel and came out into a small road back into the sun. Both were breathing heavily with their hearts beating faster than lightning. Dan looked up at Phil, grinning like an idiot, and Phil laughed. Eventually they caught their breaths and were able to speak again instead of just communicating through grinning and panting.

“So what’d you think?” Dan queried the now slightly exhausted man.

“That was amazing! I felt like I was going faster than a bullet train!”

Dan chuckled. “If only you were here at Christmas. They string up lights on the ceiling and it’s like soaring through the stars.”

“I’ll have to come back here again, then.” Phil looked at Dan in the eyes, taking in every colour he could possibly find. At last he looked down and realised they were still holding hands. Dan glanced down as well, not noticing until just then. He cleared his throat awkwardly and put his hand into his pocket, wondering if the intimacy made Phil uncomfortable.

“Uh, yeah. There’s the cafe over there, and across the way there’s a little bookshop. The entire circle pretty quaint, it’s nice for relaxing days.”

“Seems so.” There was an awkward silence for a few seconds before Dan spoke up again.

“Are you hungry? Cause I haven’t had dinner yet.” Phil nodded. “Well the restaurant I work it’s not far from here, do you wanna go?”

Phil smirked. “Is this a date?”

“What? No! Why would it be a date, unless you- you wanted it to be a date otherwise I-”

“Dan, I’d love to. The more of London I see, there more I fall in love with it so show me everything.”

At first Dan misheard Phil and his heart skipped a beat but then he realized he said “it”, not “you”. Nevertheless, he was happy and excited because Phil _actually_ wanted to see the Boulangerie. Over time he had forgotten just how kind and curious he was, and that was one of the reasons why he loved him.

“Alright.” He replied. “I’ll show you.”

*

The air was warm, just as it always was, when the two of them walked into the restaurant. A calming recording of string instruments played softly throughout the building adding to the homey atmosphere, quiet conversations between families and couples background to the setting. They walked straight up to hostess, a young girl Dan talked to on numerous occasions and would possibly consider her to be a friend though she was more of an acquaintance. She lifted up her head and smiled with pearly white teeth, tucking a loose strand of raven hair behind her ear.

“Hi Dan!”

“Hi Bea. How’s work?”

“Slow and fast at the same time, could you believe. Mel’s workin’ like a sloth cause she won’t stop flirting with Zach. It’s a shame, really. Anyway, enough about us. I see you’ve got yourself a guy?” She hinted. Dan’s ears turned pink and Phil giggled a little.

“Urm no, Beatrice, we’re just mates, friends, you know?” He stammered.

Beatrice smiled skeptically, not entirely convinced of their platonicness. “Oh, right then. I’ll just seat you two _friends_ then.” She led them to a small table by the window where you could gaze out and see a lit garden with a candle and a flower in the centre of the tablecloth. As Bea placed down the menus and the boys sat down, she made sure to give a little wink to Dan. He of course ignored it and somehow managed to not turn pink again.

Beatrice always knew Dan was gay, ever since his first day working. Whenever she had time, Bea would always point out boys she thought he would like. Most of the time he just rolled his eyes and went back to work, but other times he would counter with pointing out girls for her. It became a sort of little game for them, whoever could embarrass the other first wins. However with Beatrice’s dark skin colour you could never tell if she was blushing so he almost always lost. Their other co workers didn’t really appreciate them “flaunting their likes” as they called it. That was one of the reason Dan was such great friends with Beatrice, she understood him. Her family and his were of the same mentality and both had plenty of scars. A girl who likes girls and a boy who likes boys; the world would explode.

Watching her walk away, Dan regretted taking Phil there. He knew Beatrice was going to be working yet somehow he couldn’t fathom that she would try and set them up. She was always doing things like that and the last thing he needed was someone trying to force their relationship. He was trying outstandingly hard not to do so himself, in fact. Yet Phil seemed to be amused by her.

“She’s quite nice.” He laughed softly.

“Yeah” grumbled Dan. “She sure is something.”

“And I’m guessing by her comment that you don’t have a girlfriend?”

“Phil you met me at a gay bar what do you think.”

“Hey, I just didn’t want to be rude and make assumptions.”

Dan laughed. “No, I don’t have a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend. I don’t even have a dog, it’s a lonely life.”

Now it was Phil’s turn to laugh. “I have a fish but other than that I’m alone too. His name is Frank.”

“So we’re both alone then.” A couple of seconds of silence passed between them passed. A silence filled with recognition. “Phil.” Dan started again. “Why did you move to London?”

His face fell for only a second but it was enough time for Dan to see it. And when he smiled again his eyes were still filled with sadness. “Well, I had lived there for a long time. And somehow I always flew under the radar. Nobody really noticed me, I had a few nice friends. People smiled and waved at me like normal. Then one day it just- stopped. No one smiled, no one waved. I thought I just had bad breath or something. Until one day the word for queer was painted on my door, the one they use to make fun of us. Then I guess I just wanted out, a fresh start.”

Phil looked out the window away from Dan, lost in his own thoughts. He couldn’t imagine what it must be like for him, to live your life one way then have it ripped from you in an instant. Dan had grown up surrounded by hate, Phil was just tossed into it like a boat in a storm. He looked back at Dan and shook his head almost to imitate laughing. “I’ve no idea why I’m telling you all this, I mean we just met. But I feel like I’ve known you for a long time, you know? I don’t know it sounds crazy.”

“No.” Dan interjected. “I know exactly what you mean. I really do.” He smiled at Phil and he smiled back, this time for real. His eyes still held sadness in the back of them, but at least a bit of happiness shone through. Dan hoped that one day he could be the cause of his happiness. He wished desperately that Phil wouldn’t get hurt this time, unlike so many times before. But for the moment, he just wanted to sit and eat dinner with him like everything was normal. Just to pretend for at least a few hours would be alright.

They both ordered entrees, Dan with tomato soup and grilled cheese and Phil with a turkey sandwich and chicken noodle soup. This is also when Dan found out Phil hated cheese and teased him for it. If you didn’t know them, you would think they were a couple, they way they acted around each other. Then again, maybe they were already and didn’t know it. For dessert, only one chocolate tiramisu was bought, yet two steady hands ate with silver forks and shared the pleasure of caramel and cocoa and also the pleasure of each other’s company. Even drenched in silence the amount of emotion in the air could spark a fire.

It was night by the time they left the restaurant, stomachs and hearts full alike. The dark sky held no stars, not even the silver light of the moon. Dan figured it was because clouds were covering it. And he was right, because as he started to walk Phil to the nearest tube, a single snowflake landed on his shoulder; the sky had kept its promise. To call the night beautiful was an understatement. The night held everything and anything, it burst with life yet calmed the mind. To describe it would be time wasted, more so because you could never describe it enough. That was how Phil was to Dan: beautiful in every way imaginable.

He found it odd, Phil’s new style. No longer did he have longer ginger hair and thick glasses. His crystal blue eyes went unframed and dark black hair contrasted against his snow white skin. A eyes like the day with hair like the night, all to pair with Dan. He always knew he was lucky to have found someone like Phil, so creative and kind. Dan never even stopped to think about what it would be like to have a different soulmate. He didn’t want to.

When they reached the entrance to the tube, Phil stopped and turned around to face Dan, smiling a smile that seemed full of joy and a little bit shy. “This is me. Thanks for showing me around, I had a really nice time with you.”

“Yeah, I thought it was nice too.”

“That’s good.” Phil looked down then away at the tube entrance. “Do you want to go out sometime? I don’t have many friends in London.”

“Are you asking me out as a friend?”

“Well, no. That was just to let you know that it’d be nice to get to know you.”

Dan smiled. “I’d love that. Here, give me your phone and I’ll put my number in it.” Dan dug out his phone from his pocket and they swapped, each putting in their numbers. When Dan got his back, he saw that Phil had put a little lion emoji next to his name. He laughed softly. He always was adorable.

Phil put his hands in his pockets.“So I’ll text you?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Alright. I’ll see you later then. Goodnight!”

“Goodnight!” It took everything in Dan’s will not to lean over and kiss the boy, but he held back. If he was going to do this again, he was going to do it right. Which at the moment meant an awkward wave and walking away promising to see each other again. After a lifetime of waiting, it was good enough for him.

Dan walked with a silent smile all the way back to his flat, taking his sweet time to notice the beauty all around him. Up in the sky, a cloud moved ever so slightly and a single white star appeared. It was bright and beautiful, certainly an omen for the good fortune ahead. It wouldn’t be like last time, it would be different. Surely things would turn out better than before. Dan opened his door and went inside, content on sleeping till the day break. It was a long night and he was exhausted; and he loved every second of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me a while to write, sorry about that. I've just started school up again so I won't be able to make updates as quick as I'd like, sorry! I hope you're enjoying the story so far because I love writing it! Peace! :3  
> P.S I have big plans for this story that I think you all will find interesting ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	6. A Simple Reminder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope none of you are destiel fans. If so, I sincerely apologize for this chapter. (angst)  
> songs to listen during this chapter:  
> Touch- Troye Sivan  
> Wild- Troye Sivan

Loud music swarmed the club, neon lights dancing to the beat across the faces of intoxicated strangers. Sweaty bodies moved together almost as one, the tiniest sliver of space lost in the crowd. The entire place was a mess of contradictions, with many lights but an overwhelming darkness, a closeness between the bodies, yet a distance between the people, and the deafening sound of silence even though music flowed freely in the air. It was the Beatles, playing twist and shout on a record. it was the last place Dan expected him to be.

There was word of a young man named Eric Taylor, but not just word, practically legend. His father had a successful company and they were probably one of the richest families in their part of Brighton, but that didn’t stop Eric from doing what he pleased. Everyone who knew him in college agreed that he just about ran the school; they also said that he had a behavior problems. When he was young, not even old enough to remember, his mother died in a car accident. His father grew angry and quiet, not even bothering to teach his sons basic elements of society, or respect for that manner. Everyone thought, or rather knew, that Eric’s problems were a result of his lack of nurture, however no one ever mentioned it to him; they were all too afraid. But not Dan. He was searching for him, in fact, and he was certain that he could help him.

Jumping and dancing teenagers blocked Dan’s sight, the light and music disorientating him. After bribing the bouncer who knew Eric personally, he was told to look for ginger hair and a leather jacket. But with the lights and colours swirling around like a kaleidoscope of ribbons, Dan didn’t know if he could see anything, let alone a single man wearing leather. Yet he still pushed on, struggling through the crowd in attempt to find the man.

It was like drowning to him. The recklessness of others combined with the motion and sound of a drum set _thump thump thumping_ , he felt like he couldn’t breathe. Dan stopped in his tracks, realizing he was in the middle of the floor. Which way was he going? He couldn’t remember, and he couldn’t figure out how to leave the mass of people. His heart was racing, his palms sweaty, he felt like he was going to vomit. Quickly, he made the decision to run in a direction, and luckily for him that direction happened to be where the restrooms were.

Dan slammed the door behind him, striving to control his breathing once again. He hated crowds, he hated loud music, and he hated people. So why the Hell was he at a nightclub? Because he needed to find Eric. It wasn’t just a want, it was a need. If he didn’t find him, Eric could and would lose him. It had happened the lifetime before, and he would be damned if it happened this time. Dan looked up at the ceiling when he noticed a coil of smoke floating there. It was coming from the window to outside. He peered out of it carefully, nearly ramming his head against the frame when he realized that it was the very person he was looking for: Eric Taylor himself.

Without hesitation, Dan ran from the bathroom to the door leading outside. Unfortunately, he was too excited to figure out what he was going to say. Dan was a young thing, fresh out of college and not a single amount of stubble of his baby-faced chin, whereas Eric on the other hand was twenty years old and looked more mature than Dan figured he could ever be. He was leaning against the brick wall, a hand in his pocket and the other dragging a cigarette from his chapped, pink lips. He barely even looked at Dan when he burst out, just continued to smoke and gaze at nothing. When he noticed Dan was staring, he spoke to him, still not fully looking at him though.

“Do you want a smoke?”

Dan swallowed his nerves and walked up to Eric. “Sure.” He said, his voice cracking.

Eric laughed, pulling a cigarette out of a box and handing it to Dan. He placed it between his teeth, assuming that’s what you did with it, and spoke up again, trying to sound more manly than last time. “Do you have a light?”

Eric finally looked at Dan as he pulled out a Zippo, flipping the cog with his thumb and lighting his cigarette. When Dan choked on the smoke the first time, he laughed again. “You don’t peg me as much of a smoker, are you?”

“No.” Dan admitted. “Might as well start, though. I could be dead soon anyway. I’m Dan.”

“Eric.”

“I know.”

“Oh, do you now?” Eric quirked his eyebrow up in either suspicion or pride. “And how’s that, may I ask?”

“I talked to Steven. He tells me you two were pretty close in college.”

Eric froze suddenly. He turned slowly towards Dan, anger and fear rising in his crystal blue eyes. “What?”

"He said that you two were pretty close in school I don’t-”

“What exactly did he tell you!” Eric was almost shouting now.

“That’s it! All he said was that you were good friends a couple years ago!” He was scaring Dan, something he never knew could happen.

“You’re lying!” Eric was standing in front of Dan closely, backing him into the bricks so much that he could feel their rough texture scraping his skin. Dan hadn’t hit his growth spurt yet, and Eric towered over him.

“I’m not, I swear!”

“Well whatever else he told you, keep your mouth shut! I don't need anyone else trying to ruin my reputation.” Eric shrank back a little, just enough for Dan to relax, but they were still standing close together.

“I’m not trying to _do_ anything, I don’t know anything. I was just trying to be friendly.”

Eric snorted. “I don’t have many friends now. I’m sure Steven’s told you that.” He had told Dan that, but he wasn’t going to admit it. “And anyway now you see why.”

“Because you’re angry?”

He laughed. “You really have no problem speaking your mind, do you?”

“I’m not afraid.”

“Of me?”

“Of myself. I don’t care for liars, you know.”

“Are you implying that I’m-”

“I’m not implying anything!” Dan had never shouted at him like this, and they just met too. “All I’m saying is that people shouldn’t be afraid of who they really are or what others think of them.”

The angry fear was back again. “Listen up, you queer-”

“It takes one to know one, I guess.”

“Shut up!” Eric shoved Dan further into the wall. “I am not a queer! And you can tell Steven that the next time he talks about me, he will find something very unpleasant in his flat, I’ll make sure of it!”

“Steven didn’t tell me anything, Eric. I know what you are. I can see it in you, you don’t have to deny it.”

“You don’t know anything about me.” His voice dropped to a whisper. The anger was gone, only fear was left in his eyes. That and a small amount of sadness.

“I don’t have to know you,” Dan whispered as well. “I just have to understand you.” He could feel the other boy’s hot breath on his face. They were so close to each other that Dan could count the golden specks in Eric’s eyes.

“Who are you?” Eric asked in an honest tone.

Dan swallowed. “Someone who understands.”

There was just a moment’s pause between their conversation and what happened next. Eric’s lips were crashing against Dan’s, showing no mercy or self control, and Dan willingly let him do so. The kiss was full of lust and angst, hatred for the world and love for human touch. Eric’s hands were no longer holding Dan against the wall, instead they were trailing down his chest and beginning to push up his shirt; Dan’s were running through his hair.

Suddenly Dan pulled away. “Not here.”

“Why not?” Eric was sucking on Dan’s neck, fully intending to leave bruises.

“It’s illegal.”

“I don’t care.”

“Please.”

Eric pulled away to study Dan, looking deep into his eyes. “Alright, fine. My flat’s just down the street.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it; a pretty face like yours doesn’t belong in jail anyway.”

The walk to Eric’s flat was fast, but not fast enough. A mere two minutes was pure torture, after all Dan had spent years dreaming of this moment. It took only a few seconds in the privacy of his flat for their clothes to be thrown to the floor, care going out the window along with sanity and sense. Their hands ran over each other hungrily like they couldn’t enough of it, as if they would never get to do this ever again. Every kiss and movement was greedy and needing, the longing for each other abound. As the night went on, they became more gentle, no longer was there fear and anger. All that remained was tenderness.

In the morning, they woke up a tangle of limbs, yet somehow comfortable. Dan glanced over at Eric, who had his arms wrapped around him. Dan smiled. He wasn’t nearly as terrifying when he was sleeping; it reminded him of a different life. Golden morning light shined into his eyes that was streaming through the windows; the open windows. They forgot to close the blinds. His smile disappeared abruptly. Anyone could have seen them. They would have seen two men together. Panic started to rise in Dan’s chest. Then Eric stirred, slowly opening his eyes.

“You’re still here.” He smiled slightly. Dan didn’t reply, just continued to stare out the open window. “Dan,” He asked carefully. “What’s wrong?”

Dan could feel tears stinging at the back of his eyes. “The windows are open.” He whispered.

Eric jerked upward, confirming that the window was indeed open. The window with a view of the street. “Shit.” He swore. Eric jumped out of the bed, finding his jeans and putting them on as quickly as he could, swearing under his breath. “Shit shit shit fucking shit.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know-” Dan’s apology was cut off, however, by loud banging on the door.

“Eric, open this door right now!” A deep voice boomed.

“ _Fuck_.” Eric exclaimed. He looked sharply at Dan. “You-”

The door burst open, a large man strutting in with pure rage playing on his face. He took one look at Eric with his shirt off and Dan in just boxers and looked as if he was about to explode. He turned towards Eric, more fear than ever in his eyes and he was practically shaking. Suddenly the man grabbed Eric’s arm and pulled him to him, his fist raised.

“I knew you were one of them! You lied to me, you little bastard!”

“Dad I-”

“Shut the fuck up!” Eric’s dad hit him once, and then again, and again. He hit him so hard that the sound alone was enough to make a grown man flinch. And he didn’t stop either.

“You stupid fuck! You’re disgusting! I support you and you’re still finding ways to fucking spite me! No son of mine is a homo, you hear me?! I’m sure you’ll remember this time!”

“Stop it! Leave him alone! Let him be!” Dan cried.

“Just get out!” Eric screamed. “Leave me the fuck alone!” Dan was shocked. He didn’t move for a second.

“I said get the fuck out! Leave me alone, Dan! Do you hear me?! Just leave, Dan!”

_“Dan!”_

_“Dan!”_

“DAN!”

Dan snapped back to reality; it seems he was lost in his memories again. He was sitting down at the Boulangerie, taking a break and Beatrice was shouting at him, waving a hand in front of his face trying to get him to focus on the present. When he finally paid her attention, she crossed her arms in a curious manner.

“Were you on holiday?” She chuckled. “What were you doing, anyway?” Dan sighed.

“Dwelling on the past, something I need to stop doing.”

Beatrice nodded understandingly, knowing exactly what he meant. “I see. Well, there’s these two guys here that want to talk to you. One’s tall and the other has Beiber hair. You know them?”

“Yeah. Thanks for telling me.” He got up to go talk to them but Bea caught his arm first.

“Hey, it’s not good to think about that kind of stuff. I would know. Maybe you should take a little break, I’ll cover your shift.”

He smiled a little. “Thanks, Bea.”

She smiled back. “That’s what friends are for, right?”

Dan walked to the front of the restaurant to where Chris and PJ were waiting for him smiling brightly. They hadn’t taken their coats off, so they weren’t looking to dine but instead talk to Dan. As he approached them, Chris put his arm around Dan’s shoulders.

“So how’d it go?”

“How’d what go?”

“Your date with Mr. Dreamy, obviously.”

“Oh yeah, that. It went well, I guess.”

“Come on Chris,” PJ rolled his eyes. “They’re _soulmates_ , of course it went well. It always does.”

“Not always.” Dan whispered. It was too loud for them to hear him, but it wasn’t intending for them. It was for himself. Only a flashback of 1962 could wake him, a note that life isn’t always perfect. A simple reminder that everything can change with just one action, one mistake. “Not always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hoped you liked this chapter! Sorry for not updating as much as I usually do, I'm just a little busy with school. What do you guys think of Beatrice? I'm thinking of making her a more important character...


	7. In the Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> songs for this chapter:  
> Can't Help Falling In Love- twenty one pilots  
> A Thousand Years- Christina Perri

Dan slept well that night for some odd reason. It was a deep and dreamless and when he woke he could feel pure calmness surrounding him. The feeling was strange, one he hadn’t felt before, or at least not for a very long time. He decided that that feeling, deep in his heart and coursing through his veins like soft fire, was contentment. Dan, for once, was happy.

February drifted away like a leaf in the wind and March took its place, the excitement of an anticipated Spring hanging in the air. Days were no longer as bitter, nights not as prolonged. The world seemed to brighten up; and so did Dan. After the first week with Phil, he felt as if he could fly. After the second, he felt like he was powerful and same with the third. Finally, after a month with the boy with blue eyes, Dan felt safe. As long as he was in his arms, no harm would ever come their way. It always feels like this, and it always ends badly. But maybe, just maybe, it could be different this time. Dan prayed for this.

Dan looked up at his boyfriend mindlessly watching television, the reflection of the film gleaming in his eyes. He had his head in Phil’s lap whilst he ran his pale fingers through Dan’s brown hair, comfort and care blossoming from each touch. Many nights were spent like this, more than there should be, if Dan was to be completely honest. When they first starting dating they went out all the time, whether it was to the cinema or just to get dinner, but the mutual introvertness eventually won over and the boys just enjoyed each other’s company in the absence of people. Granted they still went out occasionally, but that was mostly when they “double-dated” with Chris and PJ. Mostly they sat at one of their homes together mere inches apart which usually resulted in them snogging on a sofa like teenagers. Yet neither of them cared; and they wouldn’t have it any other way.

It goes without saying that Dan was completely, hopelessly, and embarrassingly in love with Phil. It was hard for him to keep his eyes off of him. He often found himself staring in wonder of the man almost in shock that he actually existed. It didn’t help that everything about him was perfect in eyes, either. From his smile and his prominent adam’s apple to his rich baritone voice and the way his tongue poked out when he laughed. It was like being graced with the presence of a God. And he was so kind as well.

Never once was he impolite to someone who didn’t deserve it, and even when they did he was still amiable. However no matter how adorable he was, he was still intelligent. Phil could be so wise in situations and being able to hear him speak was a blessing enough. So yes, Dan was absolutely one-hundred percent in love with Phil; and he thought he might be as well. The both of them continued watching the film, even though quite honestly they were too invested in each other; Dan was staring at Phil and Phil was pretending not to notice because he found it adorable. Suddenly, Phil stopped the film and looked down at Dan. A puzzled look on his face, he couldn’t help but wonder why Phil had done so.

“Phil, why’d you stop the film?”

He grinned. “So I can do this.” Phil leaned down and kissed Dan sweetly, pressing his soft lips against Dan’s. For a few seconds they remained like that until Phil pulled away again. He sat back against the sofa and sighed deeply, thoughts racing around behind his eyes.

“Phil?” Dan sat up to look at him. “Is everything alright?”

Phil smiled at him. “Yeah, everything’s fine. I’m just thinking.”

“Whatcha thinking about?” Dan scooted closer to Phil, not sure whether to be worried or not.

“You. Some other stuff too, but mostly you.”

“And is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

Phil laughed softly. “It’s a great thing.”

Dan smiled. “That’s good.” He leaned his head against Phil’s chest, loving the rhythm of his breathing.

Then he sighed again. “Dan, do you think a month is very long?”

He thought for a second. “I dunno. Depends on the context. I guess it’s long time to wait but short to endure. Why?”

Phil looked frustrated. "No reason.”

“Phil… what are you on about?”

“Nothing! Honest!”

“You’re a horrible liar, you know that?”

“Your mum.”

“Come on, Phil. I’ll find out eventually so you might as well spill.”

An exasperated groan sounded and Dan lifted his head up to look at Phil in the eyes and study him carefully. He looked exhausted and a tad bit confused almost as if he was mentally wrestling with something. With yet another sigh, Phil started to explain.

“Well I mean, we've been together for a month, and well I just don’t know if it’s early or not, it doesn’t feel early it feels like we’ve been together for longer than that actually, and honestly there are people together for only a few weeks and they’ve already got a life planned out and-”

“Phil, slow down What are you trying to say.” Phil stared into his eyes for a moment then whispered “I’m sort of in love with you.”

 _He’s in love with me. He’s actually in love with me._ Dan was shocked, but it wasn’t necessarily because Phil loved him. They were soulmates, after all. It was more of the fact that the whole situation was _normal_. It was just like any other “I love you” scene in a boring old film. Most of the time they never got a chance to admit their love to another, it was always cut short or not even said at all. The last time they actually said those three little words were in a circumstance drained of joy. They were in the arms of each other, but not embracing. It was the day they both died. But this was average; it was plain. Yet it was the best thing Dan could have hoped for.

Dan snapped back to reality and realized that Phil was waiting for him to answer. “Thanks God.” He laughed to Phil’s confusion. “I thought you were going to tell me you only had a month to live.”

Phil laughed too, somewhat awkwardly. “Yeah, sorry no.”

“I’m glad that’s not the case. And for the record, I love you too.”

“Really?”

“Yes really, you spork.”

“Wow Dan, way to be romantic.”

“Just shut up and kiss me already.”

Phil grinned extra wide and extra bright as he grabbed Dan’s collar and pulled him towards him. Their lips locked sloppily and out of sync, both boys eager for the feel of each other. Teeth clacked and noses bumped and it definitely wasn’t picture perfect, but to Dan and Phil, it was the best it could ever be. Besides, neither of them were perfect anyway. If their kiss was, it wouldn’t be authentic.

Dan ran his hands through Phil’s ebony hair and in return Phil slid his hands down the taller boy’s chest. When Phil licked Dan’s bottom lip, he parted his lips slightly to allow his tongue entrance. He couldn’t help but feel at least a little excited; he had a pretty good idea as to where this particular snog was heading. They hadn’t slept together yet, Dan was a bit too nervous to do so, and the furthest they had gotten with each other was kissing shirtless. Yet Dan was determined to go farther this time, and Phil certainly wasn’t stopping either.

He pulled away from Dan but only to kiss his neck hard surely leaving bruises. Trying hard not to make any embarrassing sounds, Dan failed anyway and moaned loudly. Phil grinned and took that as an invitation to hoist Dan onto his lap so he was practically straddling him. He started to push his hands under Dan’s shirt then stopped unexpectedly. He looked up at his boyfriend, lust in his eyes but also care.

“Is this okay?” He asked softly.

Dan’s breathing had become too heavy to answer properly and instead of saying yes, he just gulped and nodded slowly. Still staring into his eyes, Phil grabbed hold of Dan’s t-shirt and lifted it over his head exposing his lightly tanned skin. The love in Phil’s eyes was indescribable as he drank in every fine detail of Dan’s chest; from his slightly pudgy stomach to the mole under his left peck, every inch was loved by Phil.

He went to work trailing kisses down Dan’s chest, slow at first then hungrily. Dan stopped him only to pull of Phil’s shirt and kiss one more time before he returned to his chest. When he got to his jeans, Phil started to undo his belt. Suddenly Dan got very nervous again. He was still a virgin after all, even if it was only in this life.

“Phil wait. I’m- I mean I’ve never-” He trailed off.

Phil looked up and smiled warmly. He kissed Dan quickly then leaned in close to his ear and whispered, “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.”

Dan gulped again. He didn’t know if that was meant to comfort him or arouse him, but either way it worked. With yet another kiss, Phil lifted Dan off of his lap and took him by the hand, leading him to his bedroom. Dan followed without hesitation, excited for what would come of the rest of their night. It was spent in each other's’ arms (and in between their legs) with waves of bliss washing over them, every second filled to the brim with love and lust. Dan was mesmerized by Phil’s body, his pale skin gracefully gliding over Dan’s tanned shade, and his figure perfectly fitting against his own like two puzzle pieces. Dan was overwhelmed in the best way, a new but familiar feeling surrounding him. Fingers explored, kisses roamed, and heights were matched. And in the midst of everything, quiet “I love you”s were whispered between breathy gasps. It was the best the both of them had felt in a long time, a very long time in fact. Too long for their own good.

*

_Red fabric of a dress twirled in the wind like ribbons of crimson blood against a dark night, the smell of thick wood smoke hanging in the air. Bright white teeth flashed a sinister smile, equally red lipstick exaggerating full lips. Golden brown hair whipped around with just a few curls in the details. The curtain of hair shifted to reveal dark green eyes the colour of poison ivy taunting the viewer, a spark of revenge just behind the iris. Then a laugh sounded, high and tuned like a baleful song._

_“I always win.”_

Dan’s eyes flew open, breathing hard and sweating. _It was just a dream. But it felt so real._ Dan hadn’t had a dream like that in a long time, not since he was twelve. That was when he dreamt about the past, though, about his other lives. _Those eyes, they’re so familiar…._

“Dan?” Phil mumbled. He was lying almost-naked on top of him, stirring awake slowly. “What’s wrong?”

Dan swallowed. “Nothing, Angel. Just had a nightmare, that’s all.”

“I’m sorry, Bear.” He nuzzled closer to Dan, releasing the tension in his body. “Go back to sleep, I’ll keep away the nightmares. I promise.”

Dan smiled. “My hero.” He closed his eyes again, letting Phil keep holding him tight. _Where have I seen those eyes before?_ Sleep was tugging at him, attempting to pull him away and take him. He was just about to let it, too until a single thought crossed his mind.

_Agnes._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cliff hanger! sort of...  
> man, I can't wait to start writing in detail about Agnes! I'm sure you guys will absolutely loathe her, which is awesome  
> I feel like I should have done something different with this chapter, though. Like writing about their first kiss instead but oh well.  
> In other news, this is officially my longest fic! YAY! *pops a party popper all over your face*  
> thanks for reading so far! I hoped I haven't scared any of you away!


	8. Do You Remember?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry in advance for this chapter. It's a long one. Also there's a lot of dialogue but I can't be bothered to rewrite it.

“What do you want on your pancakes?” Dan stood at the stove in loose pyjama bottoms, flour on his fingers and smudged onto his cheek, all thanks to Phil.

“Syrup and powdered sugar?” Phil asked sweetly.

“Sure thing.” Dan mumbled. “Can you pass me the- eek!” Dan practically jumped out of his skin when cold hands and arms surprisingly wrapped around his waist.

“Did I scare you?”

“No.”

“You’re such a liar.” Phil smiled and nuzzled his face into the crook of his neck. Usually Dan didn’t like it when people touched his neck, but with Phil it just seemed comforting. “Is everything alright, Bear?” Dan smiled slightly at the nickname. It was one his mother had given to him a long time ago which Phil thought to be adorable. He refused to call him anything else sometimes.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just- you know- the nightmares.” It was partially the truth. Dan couldn’t stop thinking about Agnes and seeing her in his dream. What did it mean? Was she back? She couldn’t be...could she?

“Just try and not think about it. Didn’t I promise you I’d keep them away?”

“Yeah, yeah you did.”

“And I intend to keep that promise, just so you know.” Dan spun around so he was now facing Phil and leaning against the stove. He was only wearing a pair of Dan’s fleece pyjama bottoms that were a little too big for him and hung low just around his hips. His dark black hair was spiked from sleep and thick blue glasses framed his face; he looked so natural. Dan held Phil’s hands in his own and looked at him lovingly.

“I love you.”

“I know.” Phil grinned. Dan bent down to kiss him on the lips softly at first, then deepened the kiss. Phil let go and ran a hand through Dan’s curly morning hair gently.They remained just like that, in each other’s arms kissing sweetly and letting the time escape them for a few moments. As they were starting to progress in a different direction other than breakfast, however, they were interrupted by the sound of a knock on the door.

Dan pulled away and rested his forehead on Phil’s reluctantly. “I guess I’ll go get it then.”

“I’ll be here manning the pancake station.” Phil stepped back allowing Dan to walk past him towards the door. He turned around for a second and Phil gave him a little salute making Dan smile. His boyfriend was, with no doubt, adorable.

Still smiling to himself, Dan walked down a small corridor to the door. He didn’t really think about the fact that he wasn’t wearing a shirt until it was too late and he already had his hand on the doorknob. Dan opened the door and was surprised to find instead of a postman waiting with a package, it was PJ.

“PJ?”

“I got your text. The one about the dream? It seemed a little urgent so I thought I’d just swing by.” PJ moved a little forward with what seemed to be the intention of entering Dan’s flat.

“I thought we could do this later. I’m kind of-er- busy.” Dan started to blush.

“Busy?” PJ quirked his eyebrow, either skeptical he had business or curious to know what he was up to.

“Well-” Dan started.

“Dan?” Phil shouted. “Who’s at the door?” Dan started to blush even more than he had before. PJ took a good, long look at him. With Dan’s ruffled hair and swollen lips, it was hard not for him to figure out what the boys had been up to. He smiled very wide like an idiot, beginning to giggle as if he was a schoolgirl.

“You!”

“Me!” Dan sarcastically replied.

“Don’t worry,” PJ assured, still laughing. “I’ll come back later. Don’t want to interrupt your shag time with your boyfriend.”

“Peej!” Dan gasped. “You know, now I see why you and Chris go well together.”

“Goodbye, Daniel!” PJ shouted as he walked away.

“Bye, PJ.” He shut the door behind him and walked back to the kitchen where Phil was waiting, spatula in hand positioned like a sword. Dan was reminded why he never let Phil cook.

“Who was that?” Phil asked, waving the utensil like a weapon.

“PJ. He wanted to come over but I told him to come back later. And you should probably give that to me. Jesus Christ Phil you’re going to hurt someone waving it around like that.”

Phil tittered and handed the spatula to Dan but not before pretending to stab him with it, which got a scared reaction out of him. Dan rolled his eyes and continued to make the pancakes, calling Phil a nerd and a dork under his breath. If there was one thing Phil was good at, it was making Dan go insane. That for sure was his secret talent.

“We should have a get together today.”

“Hm?” Dan turned around, lost in his own thoughts once again.

“I mean we should get our friends together. We never really do that sort of thing and it’s yours and Bea’s day off anyway.”

“There’s a reason why we don’t do that sort of thing, Phil. We’re both antisocial losers who people happen to like.”

“Please?” Phil gave Dan the most unbelievable puppy-eyed look in the world. It was like God himself was just trying to give Dan a hard time, sending him an actual ray of sunshine. Phil knew it too, that with just one look like that he could get him to say yes to anything.

“Fine. I guess so.” He grumbled; but he couldn’t help smiling. “Wait, you’re not going to tell anyone about last night, are you?”

Phil smirked at him, not giving an answer.

“Phil?” Dan was about to give up when Phil winked at him then walked away, still misleading his intentions. Dan panicked and ran after him. “Phil! I swear to God…. Phil!”

*

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into having a damn house party.” Dan shook his head.

Phil laughed. “If I remember correctly, there wasn’t any _talking_ required.”

Dan blushed. “Ok you promised me you wouldn’t tell them about last night, right?”

“Right. And I won’t! But how fair is it that I have a super hot boyfriend and I can’t even tell anyone about how spectacular he is in bed?” Phil fake pouted, piling onto the enormous amount of adorableness emitting from him.

“Well I guess you’ll just have to keep it to yourself. Besides, I’m pretty certain Beatrice doesn’t want to know that much about me or you for that matter.”

“You know Chris will want to hear it.”

“Chris is a dirty man child now help me move this table.” Dan was lifting up a glass table from his bedroom and attempting to move it into the lounge where he had set up drinks and snacks. It wasn’t supposed to be a party, but with Chris, PJ, Beatrice, Dan, and Phil, it was bound to get at least a tad bit odd.

“Yikes. Someone’s got the grumps.” Phil rushed over to help Dan carry the table before it fell on his foot and Dan rolled his eyes. No matter how much he complained, he had to admit he loved it when he and Phil talked like this. Like an old married couple, that is. They never got the chance to get married in any of their past lives, so the playful bickering somewhat made up for it in his mind.

“There,” Dan said, setting down the table in the centre of the lounge. “Perfect.” The doorbell chimed signaling people at the door. “Just in time, too.” He walked to the door and opened it, a grinning Chris and smirking PJ waiting for him.

“We’re here for the food.” PJ declared.

“Just the food, Peej?”

“Absolutely. That’s the only reason why we’re your friends, you see. You’re quite the chef.” Chris joked.

“I don’t even know why I’m friends with you, what do you have to offer?”

“Well I’d be happy to trade sex for pasta but I don’t think PJ would let me.” PJ thumped Chris hard on the arm sending him into a ft of high toned giggles. Eventually Dan started laughing too, and after holding a scowl for too long, PJ joined in as well.

“All right, you lot. Come in.” Dan stepped back from the doorway to let his friends through. They all walked down the small corridor together into the lounge where Phil was on the couch waiting, already digging into a bowl of potato crisps. Seeing Chris and PJ, however, he immediately set down the bag and swallowed hard pretending like he hadn’t just stuffed his face with food.

“Chris! Peej!” He exclaimed, wiping his mouth.

“Hey Phil.” PJ smiled, going in for a manly side hug. Chris, of course, did the exact opposite and hugged Phil fully while gripping onto him tight. Normally it would make Phil feel awkward, but by now they were all used to Chris’s shenanigans that they all just ignored it. He was definitely by far the gayest one in the group.

“Alright enough chat,” Chris said, settling into one of the chairs Dan had pulled out. He had grabbed one of the soda cans sitting on the table and popped the tab about to take a large swig. “I want to hear about your _steamy_ night last night. Or at least, I’m assuming it was last night.”

Phil practically erupted from the sofa, spilling crisps everywhere. “I told you! I told you he’d want to know!”

“What the fuck?! How did you- _Peej_.” Dan was slight with anger, yet PJ seemed to find the whole encounter hilarious. He was laughing silently in his chair, absolutely enjoying everyone’s reactions to the affair.

“Well, come on! I’m waiting! How did our son lose his ‘V-card’? Was it kinky?” Chris leaned forward so his elbows were resting on his knees. Dan couldn’t help it anymore and began to turn to a shade of bright pink. It was almost as if every time Chris opened his mouth about Dan or Phil or Dan and Phil, all the blood in his body decided it would be a splendid idea to travel north for vacation. Honestly, he was sick of it.

Seeing how embarrassed his boyfriend was, Phil decided to eliminate the problem. “Chris.” He nearly shouted. “Why don’t you help me get some more chairs?”

“Are you sure we need anymore chairs? We already have-”

“Yes, chairs. Good idea, Phil. You and Chris should definitely go get them.” PJ looked at Dan funny, but he knew exactly what he was doing. It wasn’t that he wanted just Chris out of the room, Phil had to leave as well. PJ and Dan needed to have a talk. So with a shrug, both Phil and Chris walked out of the room to fetch more chairs. Checking to see if they had gone, Dan rushed to PJ’s side.

“Okay, about Agnes.” He lowered his voice.

“Right. I forgot about that.”

“Unfortunately I haven’t. What does it mean?”

“Hmm.” PJ rubbed his stubbly chin. “I don’t really know. When was the last time you saw her?”

Dan thought for a second. “For certain? I know I saw her in 1915 but I thought I might have caught a glimpse in 1940 too right before…” Dan shuddered at the wretched memory. “It doesn’t matter now. What does that have to do with anything?”

“I’m sure it’s nothing Dan, just bad nightmares, that’s all. We both know what she could do.”

“But that’s the thing, Peej. It didn’t _feel_ like just nightmares. It felt like those memory dreams I had when I was a kid. What the Hell is _that_ supposed to mean?” He started to panic against his own will, breathing rapid and pulse quickening.

“Dan, calm down. It’s alright. I haven’t seen her since 1916, so who’s to say she isn’t dead already?” PJ patted Dan, starting to worry about his paranoid state.

“I thought witches and immortals can’t die?” Dan asked confused.

“Not naturally. We can still die from getting hit by a train or something.”

“Oh. Maybe you’re right.” Dan calmed down a bit to PJ’s relief.

“See? It’s nothing. And anyway, I still have nightmares about her, too. So does Chris. She did horrible things to us, Dan. None of us can forget.” Suddenly a shadow seemed to fall on PJ’s eyes, a darkness looming behind the normally brilliant turquoise colour.

“What’s this about forgetting?” Phil shuffled back into the room, a folding chair under each arm.

“The Titans.” PJ smiled trying to cover up his and Dan’s conversation. “Remember the Titans.” Although his teeth were displaying a bright smile, that dark shadow was still residing in his eyes. Dan doubted it would ever go away completely.

“Do you really think we’re gonna need all these chairs?” Chris asked, struggling with two more chairs himself.

“I don’t know. If not we could build a fort!” Phil’s face was bright enough to light the Earth and Dan smiled affectionately.

“I can’t believe you’re twenty-eight years old Jesus Christ.” Dan laughed. He glanced at PJ but he just shrugged.

“Don’t look at me, he’s your boyfriend.” The doorbell rang again, but instead of Dan going to answer it, the guest opened the door and let themselves in. To no one’s surprise, it was Beatrice. She always had a habit of making herself at home in other’s homes.

“Let’s get this party started!” Bea yelled as she strode in, a bottle of wine in each hand.

“Beatrice, please tell me you payed for that wine and didn’t steal it from the restaurant.” Dan raised his eyebrows.

“Of course I paid for it!.... This time. Anyway, hey guys! Sorry I’m late, a friend was over. She’s actually here, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. But by friend you mean _friend_ , right? Or else this is just going to be one big, gay party.”

“Nah, she’s as straight as rail. It’s kind of annoying actually.”

Chris snorted and Bea grinned at him. Dan didn’t know if it was a good idea or not introducing them to each other as both were incredibly outgoing and mischievous; they could either save the world or bring it to its end completely if they wanted to. Dan didn’t know why he hadn’t considered Beatrice more of a friend before. It must have had something to do with his determined nature to find Phil again. Now that they were together, though, she had quickly become one of his best friends. It was nice, especially since they both cared about each other. Dan never had a nice family and neither did Bea so they became each other’s siblings.

“How are you, Bea?” PJ smiled, standing up to give her a hug.

“I’m good. Never better, actually. Just got a raise and now I can afford a new laptop. It’s all good.” She sat down on the other side of Chris after setting the wine bottles down on the table. “I feel like everything is actually starting to make sense for once in my Goddamn life.”

Suddenly the door opened and a figure wearing a long coat and hat opened the door and entered the room. A red wool scarf covered half of her face and her hat hung so low you could barely see her eyes; she stomped her boots at the door before kicking them off and strolling to where the others were. She began to take off her tan coat as well to which she threw it on a chair, rather rudely if you asked Dan.

“Here she is.” Beatrice smiled. “Guys, this is my friend from southern London.” The woman began to take off her scarf as well then her hat. Once her hat was off, coils of thick golden brown hair fell around her face. Dark green eyes showed off, contrasting greatly against pale skin. “Everyone meet Agnes Childs.”

Dan felt as though he were about to throw up. Every single fiber in his body desperately wanted to flee away from this horrible woman who ruined not just one life, but almost every single life he could remember. Everything Agnes did was for her own benefit and it repulsed him, and by their faces, Chris and PJ felt the exact same way. The only one who didn’t greet her with such utter hatred was Phil, of course, who had never met her before. At least not in his current life.

“Hi! I’m Phil and this is Chris, PJ, and Dan.” He welcomed.

“Oh, I know who you are. Bea has talked so much about you guys.” Agnes’s falsely sweet tongue felt like a punch in the gut for Dan and the use of Beatrice’s nickname made him want to shout at her. He was always protective over Bea and this was the worst possible scenario. _Wake up Dan, come on wake up. It’s just a dream. Wake up, oh God please wake up._

“All right, now that the introduction is over let’s get to drinking.” Bea chimed happily.

“Sounds- sounds great.” Dan could barely speak; he didn’t know if he was about to scream or cry or both.

“Here, why don’t I show you and Agnes where the glasses are?” Phil asked standing up.

“I’d love to but I’d rather stay here. My feet hurt after walking so much.” Agnes pouted.

“No problem! Rest up and we’ll get you some glasses. This way, Bea.” _Oh please don’t go, please don’t leave her with me! Please! Don’t leave me!_ Dan could feel tears start to sting at the back of his eyes but he held them back.

Agnes sat down right next to Dan just as he thought she would but hoped she wouldn’t. He couldn’t do anything about it, though. He couldn’t let her get to him, no matter what.

“So.” She sang, smiling bitter sweetly. “Dan, do you have a girlfriend?”

“No, I’m in a relationship with Phil.”

She frowned. “Really? Cause you look like quite the ladies-man.” She was so close to him that he could smell fresh mint on her breath; he critically tried not to flinch.

“He’s sure.” PJ asserted. His voice was firm and almost angry but no one could blame him, honestly.

“No need to be hostile! I was just asking an innocent question. Sorry we got off on the wrong foot.” Agnes had perfected the forlorn look in her eyes. It had been so long, Dan had forgotten just how good she was at playing the victim.

Chris glowered at her. “Well maybe you should-”

“We’re back with the glasses!” Phil interrupted.

“By the way, Dan, you’ve got a lovely cupboard. It’s like you took the entire Boulangerie home with you!” Beatrice plopped down next to Chris again and with his seat taken, Phil sat next to PJ instead of Dan. “Hope none of you are driving, cause it’s going to be a fun night.”

Agnes flashed a smile that to an observer seemed sweet but in reality was much more horrific towards Dan. He smiled back, dread settling deep in his heart. I _t’s going to be a long night._

By the time both bottles of wine were drunk, it was much later in the night and almost everyone was tipsy. Except for Dan, Chris and PJ who were trying with all their might to get smashed in order to forget that they were in the presence of the most atrocious witch of all time. Only Chris succeeded, however, and he passed out on the sofa at around eleven o’clock. When this happened, it occurred to everyone that it might be time to go back to their own homes.

Beatrice pulled on her coat and hugged Dan and Phil. “Thanks for a lovely evening, you two!”

Phil smiled and hugged her back. “No problem, Bea! You know you’re welcome anytime.”

“Phil, you do realize that this my flat and not yours, right?”

“Oh yeah, oops.” He giggled. Dan didn’t have the time or energy to appreciate his intoxicated lover, as dark green eyes were boring into his soul.

“It was nice to see you too, Peej.” Bea hugged PJ as well. She looked over his shoulder at Chris who was still on the sofa lying face down. “And give my love to Chris when he comes to, will you?”

“Of course.” PJ mumbled. Dan remembered Peej telling him about how it was harder for witches to get drunk, something about advanced evolution. He felt sorry for him; after all that happened to him he still had to bare through that horrible woman with a sober mind.

“Well, we best be off, then.” Bea took Agnes by the arm but she slipped out at the last second.

“Wait, I didn’t get the chance to say goodbye!” She whined.

Before anyone could stop her she gave Phil and PJ a quick hug before pulling Dan into a long one. She held on too tight and he felt as though he couldn’t breath. Then again, maybe that was just how she was. He thought she was about to draw back when she moved her head but instead she positioned her bright red lips next to his face. With a voice as sweet and sinister as a poisoned sweet, she whispered low into his ear. “ _I know your secret_.”

Dan froze. The one thing he had been counting on was ripped away from him, torn apart completely. If there was only one way to beat Agnes, it was using his Memories against her. Now, he couldn’t even do that. He was officially defenseless.

Agnes released him and linked arms with Beatrice once again. “Goodnight, Dan. Phil, PJ.” The two girls opened the door and exited the flat, leaving a thick silence in their wake.

“Well,” Phil began. “I’m off to bed.”

“What?”

“I asked if I could stay the night, Dan. Don’t you remember?”

“Oh.” Dan muttered. He was so overwhelmed by Agnes that he nearly forgot about Phil’s presence on multiple occasions. “Right, yeah.”

“Night.” Phil leaned over and kissed Dan on the cheek before heading off to where Dan’s bedroom was.

Once he was gone, Dan let go of his calmed state and started to panic again. “PJ, she’s here. She’s actually here.”

PJ lifted Chris off the couch and slung his arm over his shoulder, supporting him in a standing position. “Dan, let me tell you something. I’m going to go home, vomit into a toilet, then go to sleep next to my boyfriend that might as well be dead. I really don’t want to talk about this right now.” His eyes were tired; and old, too. It was the first time Dan realized just how long PJ had lived.

“But-”

“Goodnight, Dan.”He and Chris left the flat as well; Dan was alone.

He sat down on the couch, surrounded by half full wine glasses and empty bowls once filled with food. He knew that he needed to clean it up, but right now he was tired and drunk and couldn’t be bothered to do so. Just then a slip of paper caught his eye. He picked it and read it. It was Agnes’s phone number along with a note that said “We should catch up, you and I. It’s been a long time.”

Then Dan did something that he hadn’t done in a long time. He didn’t know exactly what triggered it, maybe it was Agnes’s note or maybe just the buildup of stress, but Dan started to cry. Not the type of tears that flowed at the end of a sad film, but the type with ugly weeping and a drenched face. He cried so much he couldn’t breathe; he didn’t want to. A loud sob escaped his mouth and he quickly covered it with his hand. Phil couldn’t know that he was crying, he could never explain it to him. He could never tell him.

Dan looked down at the piece of paper again. He crumpled it in his free fist and threw it to the ground, still attempting to stop the loud cries coming from him. The paper fluttered to the floor gracefully, the pitch black ink still shining in the light of the brightly lit room. It was all so real now. He had lived through Agnes’s torture before, but now he was going to relive it all over again. Phil was, too. He had to protect him from her, she wasn’t going to get to him again, she couldn’t.

_Oh God_ , he thought. _What am I going to do?_


	9. Madness in the Mind, Guilt in the Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "People will never truly understand the hirt I feel when I hurt someone I love." -Anonymous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song for this chapter:  
> Heavydirtysoul by Twenty-One Pilots

Dan couldn’t stop thinking about Agnes. She was there when he went to sleep and when we woke up. No matter what he tried, she was always there, in the farthest corner and the darkest shadow in the back of his mind. The very thought of her was consuming his mind. Now he understands why people say there is a thin line between love and war; they both involve obsession.

It had been two weeks since they had met for the first time in one hundred years, and there was nothing but dead silence between the two. She had given him her number, but he crumpled it up and threw it in a bin in an attempt to wake up from a nightmare reality. Dan didn’t like the fact that she was back in his life, that she knew where he lived and Phil’s whereabouts. Every time he turned, Dan always looked behind his shoulder to see if she was following, because if she was back, it meant Hell.For everyone this time.

Dan hadn’t spoken to PJ in a while, or Chris for that matter. He didn’t know exactly what she had done to them, but it was enough to drain the colour from Chris’s cheeks or cause PJ to shake, either in fear or rage. Still, he could only guess. If there was one thing Agnes detested, it was that which she deemed immoral. Nothing could stop her from doing what she called justice, and if it wasn’t a real life in the first place, then its death wouldn’t be real either. That was her twisted way of thinking.

Agnes was not just always in Dan’s mind, he was always in his life as well. Just as Phil was there to give him something to hold onto, Agnes was there to take his heart in her hands and crush it between slender fingers. He first met the witch in 1540. She had entered the bakery with a friend of hers examining the cakes, but Agnes was more interested in something else: Dan. He’ll admit, when she first entered the shop, he thought she was beautiful. Stunning in fact. Honestly, how could you not find Agnes Childs gorgeous. She had hair like fine honey and eyes that looked to be of forests, cherry red lips to complete her appearance. Yes, Dan did find her attractive at first. Then he talked to her.

She had a smooth, mellow voice that seemed like that of a song, carrying a tune with every word. Yet it wasn’t the words that disturbed Dan, it was the meaning behind them. He was a modern man, with fresh ideas and a new way of thinking, whilst Agnes was the polar opposite. She believed in tradition and status quo, that every person has their place and should stick to it. Agnes talked as if she was more important that God, and Dan suspected that is exactly how she thought of herself.

Phil had been staying over a lot more recently. Before it was only really one night a week or maybe two, but now it was nearly every other day, sometimes more. He was practically living in Dan’s flat. Not only that, but he was doing things for him, little things, but still. He made him breakfast even though Dan could cook just fine and he always retrieved items the first time Dan asked. Normally he would roll his eyes and laugh, but there was a sense of sincerity now. Once, Dan even saw Phil studying his face out of the corner of his eye. He tried to act normal, but with Agnes on the back of his mind, whatever Dan did seemed forced and unpleasant. Phil was starting to worry.

They were in his lounge, just sitting on the sofa with their laptops in silence. At least, silence at first. Phil abruptly snapped his laptop closed, startling Dan for a moment. He turned to face Dan, this time studying him for real, not attempting to hide it.

He tried to ignore it, but eventually Dan looked up at Phil. “You know, it’s impolite to stare.”

Phil didn’t respond, he only looked at him. Dan sighed.

“Look, I don’t know what you want me to say.” It was a lie. Dan knew exactly what Phil wanted him to say. Phil wanted Dan to let him help him.

“It’s nothing, Dan. With me, that is.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Is everything alright Dan?”

“Of course.” Another lie. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

Phil pulled at a loose thread on a throw pillow. “I dunno, why don’t you tell me.”

Dan closed his own laptop and set it beside him, taking Phil’s hands into his own. “Phil, I am perfectly fine, I promise.” He was spitting lies just a dragon spits fire now.

“Are you sure? Because it doesn’t seem like it.”

“Phil-”

“I’m not trying to pick a fight or anything, I just want to help you. You’ve been awfully quiet lately which is quite an accomplishment for the likes of you.”

Dan smiled. “Phil. There is nothing wrong, okay? There’s no need to worry.”

“Okay, if you insist.”

Dan exhaled. He hoped that was the end of it. Then Phil spoke up again.

“When we had that party, that’s when it started. You being quiet. Come to think of it, Chris and Peej haven’t talked to us since the party either. Dan,” Phil looked at Dan, partially scared and partially accusing. “What’s going on?”

Dan went cold. He prayed that no one had noticed how they were acting around Agnes, yet there was no denying that he was acting strange. And with Chris and PJ going radio silent, there was no doubt that it looked very suspicious. Dan panicked. He couldn’t tell him the truth about Agnes. No matter how much he tried not to think about it, the years in the mental institution in the past, he was still afraid of the truth, more of others finding out the truth. If there was one thing Dan had learned over the years, it was how to divert attention. He could give a response that didn’t answer him, but Phil would never question it. This would be done by telling him what he wants to hear.

“Okay, fine. I’ll tell you.” Phil raised his eyebrows but Dan knew exactly what he was going to say. “I’ve been thinking. And it’s kind of been nagging me a lot, that’s what I’m slower than usual. And well, I was going to wait till later But I guess now is okay.”

“Dan, what is it?”

“Well, I was sort of tossing around the idea of you moving in with me? I mean you practically live here already, but I know you just moved to London like two months ago, so I don’t know.”

Phil smiled. “Dan, that’s so sweet. And you know what? I’d love that.”

“Really?” Dan asked. He was genuinely surprised. They hadn’t known each other for that long yet they were planning on living together.

“Yes really! Oh my God, I can’t believe this is happening.” Phil grinned wide and hugged Dan tight, burying his face into his shirt.

“Yeah.” Dan mumbled. “Me neither.”

He couldn’t believe it. Not telling Phil about their lives was one thing, but this was lying to his face. Not only that, but tricking him into ignoring the problem by asking him to live with him? That was serious manipulation. Dan didn’t want to hurt Phil, and he never could either. But maybe what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. After all, hadn’t it always been that way?

*

The familiar jingle of the iphone ringtone sounded, alarming Dan that someone was calling him. He was surprised when he looked at the caller ID, as it read “PJ”. They hadn’t talked in awhile, and he was starting to believe his immortal friend somehow died of alcohol poisoning. Nonetheless, he answered the ringing phone.

“Hey Peej.”

“Hey Dan. What’s up?”

Dan sighed. “Nothing much.”

“Are you alright? You sound like shit.”

“I feel like shit.” He grumbled. “Phil started asking questions about Agnes so I pawned it off by asking him to live with me. To _live with me_ , Peej!”

“Look, Dan. Why don’t you just tell him the truth? You love him, he loves you, and him knowing might just give us a chance against Agnes.”

Dan’s blood ran cold. “No. I-I couldn’t. It’s hard to explain it’s just- no I can’t do it.”

“Alright, I’m sorry I asked.” PJ defended.

“It’s okay, just complicated.” There was a pause. “How’re you and Chris? Still holding up?”

PJ laughed humourlessly. “Sure, if by holding you mean drinking day in and day out and passing out on the couch every day at 4 o’clock, we’re peachy.”

“That was oddly specific.”

“But it’s true. Chris isn’t one for healthy doses of emotions, he’s either all in or all out. And right now, he’s trying not to be all out. She did some pretty shit stuff to us, Dan. He doesn’t want to remember any of it.”

“What did she do to you?” Dan asked curiously.

PJ made a frustrated noise. “Look, it doesn’t matter right now, alright?” He halted for a second. “Sorry, that was kind of harsh.”

“No, I understand.” He really did understand, as he had quite a bit of traumatic memories himself. “And Peej?”

“Yeah Dan?”

“It’s nice to hear your voice. I thought you’d have fled the country by now.”

PJ snorted. “Trust me, Chris has been begging but I won’t leave London for the life of me.”

“That sounds about right. And by the way, I’m really glad I met you again. You have no idea how long it’s been since I talked to someone about this kind of stuff.”

“Don’t worry, I get it. Not everyone can have a Chris.”

“Yeah,” Dan thought of Phil and how he could never know the truth, no matter how much it hurt Dan. “Not everyone.”

“Anyway,” PJ continued. “I need to check on Chris to make sure he’s still alive. See you later Dan.”

“Bye Peej.”

Dan hung up the phone and threw it onto his bed beside him, leaning against the headboard and groaning. All this talking and thinking about Agnes made his head hurt, he wanted her out. Yet no matter how much he begged and cried, she was still there in his mind, flipping the golden brown hair smiling sinisterly. So in a final attempt to rid his thoughts of her, he thought of the other person occupying his mind: Phil.

Most of the time Phil was always a happy subject in his mind, with images of kissing and cuddling him coiled up in his brain. Except now, it wasn’t all that happy. The only thing he could think of was how Dan was lying to him, manipulating him. He thought of how heartbroken he would be if he found out. That’s why he could never find out. Phil would think him mad if he knew the truth, so why not create a small fib to protect him? Phil loved Dan, not Winston and Dan loved Phil, not Eric or James or even Oscar. But Dan always loved John, no matter how many years passed, the version of Phil he fell in love with was always there. He never really left, honestly. Sometimes he could see a glint in his eye just how John used to be, even though Phil technically is John….It was really complicated sometimes, keeping track of all these lives.

Suddenly Dan was ripped from his thoughts by the sound of his phone ringing yet again. He rolled his eyes and picked up the phone, pressing the answer button without even looking at it.

“What do you want, Peej? Did you forget something?”

“Not exactly.” Dan swore his heart stopped beating for a second; he could feel the hairs rising on the back of his neck. _That’s not PJ_.

Agnes chuckled. “Hello, Daniel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why is she calling him? What has Agnes done to PJ and Chris? Will Phil ever find out about Dan's past? Find out next time on GLEE


	10. Wars of Different Kinds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "How terrible it is to love someone the darkness can touch." -Anonymous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I cried whilst writing this btw)  
> Songs:  
> Not About Angels by Birdie  
> Call Me by Shinedown  
> Resistance by Muse (thank you Morgan_the_Hufflepuff !)

Dan was shaking but not from fear, oh no, he was shaking in rage. “What the Hell do you want?”

Agnes laughed. “That was quite rude, Dan. You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

He decided to let the remark go; she just wants him to react harshly. “How did you get my number?”

“I swiped it from Bea’s phone whilst she was at work. I was sad when you didn’t call.”

“What are you trying to do?”

“So many questions. You haven’t changed a bit Daniel. Or maybe you have. I can see that look in your eyes, of darkness and fear. It’s in your witch friend’s too, and his boy toy.”

Dan chuckled brittlely. “You sure haven’t changed, Agnes. That’s for certain.”

“So you do remember? I thought so at first, but as soon as I saw Peter and Christopher with you I knew it had to be true.”

“Can you just get to the point?” Dan sighed. Talking was exhausting enough at the moment, let alone to the person he hated. “I know you didn’t call just as a friendly chat up.”

“But Daniel, I do want to be your friend.” He could tell that she was pouting on the other end of the phone. “After all, that’s what I’ve always wanted.”

“No, you’ve wanted to ruin my lives for the past centuries. Not to mention before that you wanted a little more than friendship.”

Agnes scoffed. “I was young then. I’ve changed. I really just want to be your friend.”

“Why don’t you stick your friendship up you-”

“Down boy. I am _honestly_ on your side. Why do you think I made friends with Beatrice? I knew how close you two are.”

“Call it old habits, but something tells me not to trust you.”

“Whatever, that’s up to you.” Dan was about to hang up when she spoke up again. “But Dan? In case you decide to believe me, I’ll be waiting at Wild and Wood Coffee at eight o’clock Saturday night. Please be there.” Agnes hung up the phone as soon as she was done talking, not letting Dan have the pleasure of doing so.

Dan leaned back against his headboard again, confused as ever. She sounded sincere, like she actually wanted to be friends with him. Had she changed? He thought back to the last time he saw her for certain. It was 1915, the midst of World War I. Both Dan and Phil, then named Oliver and Isaac, escaped the drafting as they were leaders in the war effort in the food area; Dan was a chef and Phil was transporter. Agnes was dropping off supplies for care packages for Dan to make and all she did was smile. The only reason he knew it was her was because of her signature honey coloured hair and forest green eyes. Well, that and what happened just mere minutes after.

Dan tried everything to keep Phil safe. He always insisted on checking in with each other when he went out for deliveries, he always walked into rooms first. So when it was dinner time, he had some of Phil’s soup when he wasn’t looking. With no immediate affects, Phil was free to have as much of his dish as he wanted. Then the room went dark. Both men collapsed, systems shutting down and hearts stopping. It was said that they used belladonna instead of seasoning, but Dan would have never made that mistake. It was Agnes. Dan was born again years later in 1919 with the name of Stephen Hugh Bristol, still with the taste of poison in his mouth.

He looked up at the ceiling deep in thought. It had been a century ago, was is possible that Agnes was different now? He thought about the offer for meeting her. Surely he couldn’t risk being alone with Agnes, but then again what if she was better? If he didn’t meet her, he’d never know. Plus, she did want to meet at a cafe. If she planned to kill him Saturday, it wouldn’t be there.

Dan ran his hands through his hair and groaned. Saturday was the day after Phil was supposed to move in, how would he come up with an excuse to see her without him knowing? He could just admit to going to see a friend, that was more or less the truth, but then he might want to go with him. He could say it was something for work, but hadn’t he lied to Phil enough already? Dan decided to sleep on it; he couldn’t deal with this much stress in one night. Turning out his light. he rolled over in bed, content on sleeping till noon.

*

It was dark. It was so dark fact in fact, that the torches had to be brought out. The funny thing was though, it was barely night time. Black and grey smoke coiled around the field, seeping into the lungs of the soldiers and choking them on their own tongues. On that dead field in the dark smoke, a man named Charlie lay, saying his daily prayers. Before he could finish, another man with curly brown hair entered the small tent, a man named Stephen. The tent was small, only two person, and was a ugly moss shade. Neither of the men could do anything about it, this was the life of the army.

It would be incorrect to call them men, boys would be a better term. Charlie was only twenty-three and Stephen twenty-one, entirely too young to be at war. Charlie couldn’t escape it, he was jobless and the war was the only way his family could live adequately, but to Stephen, it was heaven compared to where he had been. Stephen had spent five years in a mental institution for schizophrenia. He claimed to not have the disorder, so when the draft came around looking for capable men, they offered him up. He gladly went, anything was better than torture.

Charlie looked up at Stephen as he entered the tent, quickly finishing his prayers. Stephen let him be and lied down, waiting patiently for his religious friend to end his routine. When he was done, he rolled over and looked at Stephen and smiled. The two boys had spent nearly a year together in the army, always sharing the same tent and swapping stories.

“Are you religious, Steph?”

Stephen laughed. “Nope, not at all.”

“Why not?”

“Praying doesn’t do much good, in my experience. And for what I know, it won’t stop me from dying tomorrow.”

“And is that the only reason?” Charlie blinked, blue eyes wide behind his round spectacles.

“Well, that and the Bible says they should stone me. That’s kind of a negative point too.” Stephen smiled sadly at Charlie.

Charlie moved over carefully and positioned himself in front of his friend. “If they stone you, then I guess I’ll be next, huh?”

“No, never. I won’t let you go that easily, blue eyes.”

Charlie laughed and poked out his tongue the way he did whenever he was happy.“Is that a promise, brown eyes?”

Stephen sat up and put his hand over his heart, closing his eyes. “To the death! Which will never happen because you and I will live forever, obviously.”

“We have to die someday, Steph.”

“Not on my watch.” He lied back down, staring at the roof of the tent. “So if you agree that you’ll be stoned,” he said, picking at his shirt. “Why do you insist on praying every day?”

He shrugged. “For hope, I suppose. Because I have something to lose.”

“Your family?”

“Yes, but I was thinking more about you.”

Stephen sat up again and looked Charlie in the eyes. He placed his hand on Charlie’s face, cupping his chin gently. “I don’t want to lose you either.”

Charlie took the back of Stephen’s neck and brought him into a kiss, a kiss full of passion and love. Throughout the year they had served with each other, the two boys had fallen in love. It was odd how easily it seemed to be to fall in love with someone in war, almost as if to let go of everything else, they had to hold on to each other. And that’s exactly what they did: they held on.

When the kiss was broken, they pulled away and looked at each other, both drinking in their lover’s looks. Charlie was a pale beauty, with porcelain skin and ginger brown hair, bright blue eyes to go along. Stephen was the exact opposite. He had curly, dark brown hair and tanned skin, chestnut coloured eyes to match. He was all soft edges, a warm aesthetic admitting from him whereas Charlie was sharp as a knife. His adam’s apple jutted out, his cheekbones prominent and shoulders broad. A word to describe him would be electrifying; he had the beauty of the Arctic.

Stephen leaned his forehead against Charlie’s. He wanted to tell him how much he loved him. The feeling deep inside his chest and boiling in his heart was too much too contain, but he had too. He never said “I love you” first, that was a rule of his. Maybe it was because he never wanted to make a fool of himself, but nonetheless he always kept his feelings to himself.

Charlie smiled up at Stephen. “Did they teach you how to kiss like that at your fancy charter school or something?”

Stephen smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, something like that.” He never told Charlie about the institution. He was afraid of what he would think of him so instead he lied about going to a charter school for college and university.

“Charlie, I need to tell you something.” Before he could open his mouth again, shouting began. Not just one person however, it sounded to be many people. Eventually an older soldier came into their tent, breathing fast and fear in his eyes.

“What is it?” Charlie asked, ready to defend himself.

“It's the Germans.” The soldier panted. “They’ve found our camp and have started to attack. We need you both, now.” Not another word was said as he slipped out of the tent and into the night, preparing for battle.

Charlie smiled sadly at Stephen. “I guess it’ll have to wait.” He stood up and offered Stephen a hand, both boys quickly putting on their gear and grabbing their weapons. Just as they were about to leave the tent as well, Stephen grabbed Charlie’s hand squeezed it; once for good luck, twice for love. So with a reassuring nod, the boys ran out into the fight.

The smoke was heavy. Even more so than it usually was at that. Men were shouting at each other, words reduced to nothing but noises with no meaning behind them. The gunfire was earsplitting and the only light source were the fire from gunshots, illuminating the other dark tents and scared soldiers. It was utter chaos, total and absolute chaos. Watching from above, it must have looked like an anthill scattering after a bully poured water down it. Then suddenly, about twenty young men started running in the boy’s direction, frantically trying to get away from and invisible force.

“What’s going on?!” Stephen yelled.

“Run!” One of them screamed. “Just run Goddammit, run!”

An explosion sounded, similar to the bombs dropping in London except smaller. A bright orange glow surrounded the area, men falling in down in their tracks, debris piercing their forms. There was no help for them now. Stephen looked up and searched for Charlie, panic arising.

“Charlie?” He shouted. “Charlie!”

“I’m here, Steph.” He coughed. “I’m alright.” Stephen smiled and tried to reach for him, but he found he couldn’t move very far. The explosion had knocked him off his feet, but then a crate had fallen on his left leg.

“Charlie, I can’t move move. My leg- I can’t.” Charlie stood above him, analyzing the scene. He then started to move the crate, pushing with all his strength to move the weight. “Charlie, what the Hell? Just leave me! They’re coming for God’s sake, they’ll fucking kill you!”

Charlie grunted as he finally moved the crate off of Stephen. “I don’t give a shit.” He grabbed Stephen’s arm and hoisted him into a standing position, supporting his weight by acting as a crutch.

“Charlie you idiot! Just leave me! Just leave me! I don’t matter, just leave me!” He panted, both screaming and crying. His leg was crushed. Even if Charlie did get him out of immediate danger, he couldn’t keep running forever. If he left him, Charlie could get to safety and Stephen would take his chances.

“I’m not leaving you, alright?!” Charlie yelled back. He struggled under Stephen’s weight, mostly dragging him through the mud now, avoiding the bullets. But he couldn’t avoid them forever.

He had blonde hair and green eyes; the perfect Aryan soldier. He looked as if he was searching or hunting instead of fighting, he didn’t kill or even harm any other English soldier, but maybe that it how it was meant to be. The tall German moved in the darkness easily as if it was his natural habitat, bright white teeth gleaming through the smoke. It was unknown how he wasn’t noticed instantly, yet the man remained a ghost. That was, until he wasn’t.

Charlie didn’t see him coming, but Stephen did. He couldn’t even scream a warning though, before the man’s sinister face was looming over them. He pressed the barrel of his gun up against Charlie’s chest, still smiling all the while. Charlie's blood felt warm as it splattered on Stephen’s tanned cheek. Charlie’s eyes were wide, he sank to the ground with Stephen’s arm still around him.

“You bastard!” Stephen screamed. He couldn’t control himself and he pulled out his own gun, aiming straight for the man’s forehead. Stephen was never good at weapon training, but he made sure not to miss this time. He emptied every bullet into the man’s head, rage replacing self control and sanity. He could have sworn that his green eyes looked familiar as the German toppled to the ground. When there were no bullets left, Stephen turned his attention to Charlie, who was still breathing but just barely.

“Hey hey hey, it’s okay, alright? You’re going to be fine.” Stephen panicked. They both knew it was a lie. “I made a promise, yeah? I promised you’d be fine.”

“Stephen…” Charlie breathed. The bullet had just missed his heart, no doubt filling his lungs up with blood; he was going to drown in his own blood. It was the most pain he had ever felt in his life.

“No! I promised you! I can’t lose you! I can’t! Not like this, never like this!” Hot tears rushed down Stephen’s face, landing on Charlie’s cheeks gracefully.

“Stephen…” He said again, this time louder. “I just- want you to know.” He swallowed, tears forming in his now clouding crystal eyes. “I love you, brown eyes.”

He let out a small wail. “I love you too, blue eyes.”

Charlie smiled. Eventually the light dimmed to nothing behind his blue eyes; his soul had left his body. Stephen looked down at Charlie, the corpse of the man he loved, and let out a cry. It was a loud cry, one that would pain the listener as much as it pained the cryer. Stephen held Charlie to his chest, sobbing and refusing to let go. That was the first time they told each other they loved them, and the last time as well. Charlie was dead, and he had died in Stephen’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if this was confusing! Just a bit of backstory for what happened that Dan doesn't want to talk about. Basically Stephen is Dan's old life and Charlie was Phil's old life.


	11. Calling Fate by Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Memories destroy us."

“Dan?....Dan!” Phil shouted.

“Hm?” Dan ripped away from his zoned out state and put his attention back on Phil.

He laughed. “Were you on holiday? Here, come and help me with this box.” In his arms, Phil was carrying a large cardboard crate with books and trinkets stacked neatly in it. The weight must have been a lot as it looked as if he was about to drop the box at any moment.

“What? Oh yeah, sorry.” Dan swooped down and took the box from Phil earning him a peck on the cheek.

“Thanks babe.”

Dan only mumbled in response, still trapped in his mind. It was friday: the day Phil moved in and the day before he would either meet or blow off Agnes, and he still hadn’t decided what he was going to do. A normal person would probably make a list of pros and cons and weigh them then determining whether to take the risk or not but Dan was hardly normal. He had tried to make a list initially but all it did was lead to an hour long existential crisis, yet another reason why Dan could never pass a functioning human being.

He hadn’t talked to Agnes since she called. He supposed that’s the way she wanted it to be: Dan alone with his thoughts. As every hour ticked by, Dan could feel his anxiety level rise. He needed to convince Phil that nothing was going on, but this was certainly not helping. Dan set the box on the dinner table, breathing heavily from lifting boxes and climbing unnecessary stairs. Phil arrived shortly after him holding a potted plant and laughing at his exhaustion.

“Jesus Christ Phil how many books do you have honestly.”

“A lot. I like to read.” He smiled.

“I can tell. Ever heard of ebooks? They won’t break your bones if you drop them on yourself.”

“But then they wouldn't smell nice!” Phil pouted.

Dan smiled warmly at his boyfriend. He was, without a doubt, the luckiest person alive to be able to spend time with such an amazing and adorable human being.

“Yeah right, you just like seeing me struggle.” Dan walked over and put his fingers through the belt loops on Phil’s jeans, pulling him closer to him.

Phil smirked. “Well I have to admit it is quite a nice angle.” Phil leaned in and kissed Dan long and slow, just the way two people in love should. It was a sweet moment.

“Ew get a room you two.” PJ had walked into the room and just like that: the moment was ruined.

“That’s exactly what we’re doing, Peej. Getting a room. Together.”

“Ah, right.” PJ sat down down at the table right next to the couple practically forcing them to part ways. “Moving in. I remember when Chris moved into my my place for the first time.”

“First time?” Phil asked curiously. Dan shot PJ a look silently as a warning.

“Yeah, er we moved from Reading to London a couple years back.” Dan exhaled slightly when he saw Phil accept the answer.

“Oh, ok.” Phil sat down in a chair and began to sort through one of the boxes humming the tune to a Fall Out Boy song quietly.

“Are there any more boxes, Phil?”

“No, I think Chris’s got the last one.” Chris waddled into the dining room with a giant box in his arms covering his face. He set the box down not-so-gently on one of the chair then leaned against it, grinning wildly.

“That box was heavy! Good thing I have these bad boys or else it would have taken all of us to bring it up here.” Chris pointed to his biceps for show.

“Nice try Chris but we can all see it says ‘duvets and pillows’ on the label.” PJ rolled his eyes.

Chris frowned. “They were heavy pillows.”

Dan watched the couple interact with each other. On the phone, PJ had said that they were pretty rough, especially Chris. By the sound of it, it seemed like he wasn’t fit to get out of bed let alone the house. He still had no idea what made them act this way about Agnes, but he knew it mustn’t be good.

“I still can’t believe you two are already moving in together. It’s been like what, two months? Less? Me and Peej knew each other for years before we got super serious.”

“Didn’t you meet in year eight?”

“That’s besides the point, Phil. The real point is that you’re both really dumb but you’re also kinda cute so I’ll allow it for now.”

“Thanks Dad.”

“I thought that was your nickname for Phil.”

“Shut up, Chris.”

“Make me, Peej.” It was just like normal.

Chris was being disgusting, PJ was rolling his eyes at him, and Dan and Phil were sitting in silence, this time they were thinking about their relationship. When Chris said it the way he did, it did sound a bit sketchy, moving in barely two months after knowing each other. But they loved each other wholly and completely. Dan had known Phil for years after all and he truly believed that somewhere, deep inside, Phil remembered their love as well.

“Do you have any beer?” PJ asked, reclining back in his chair.

“Yeah I think there’s some in the kitchen just hold on a sec.” Phil scooted out of his chair and walked to the kitchen. Dan took this time to tell the others his decision.

He leaned in close and half whispered, “I’ve decided I’m going to meet Agnes.”

“What?!” Chris gasped. This is the point Dan realized he hadn’t told his friends about her offer to meet up. Oops.

“Agnes called and said she wanted to meet with me to talk.”

“Dan,” PJ scolded. “What the Hell?”

“Look I know it looks bad but I think she’s changed in the past hundred years.”

“No, Dan. She hasn’t. She’s a horrible witch just like she always was and always will be.”

“Maybe not. When we talked she really sounded caring and concerned. I have to at least _see_ if she’s different.”

“I don’t know, it’s dangerous. You know what she can do.”

“Who can do what?” Phil walked slowly back into the room, looking at all of the boys curiously. “And why is what dangerous?”

They just looked at each other. Phil still didn’t know about what was truly going on and explaining would be tricky.

“It’s Agnes.” PJ finally sighed. Dan looked at him intensely, silently reminding him to check himself. “The thing is, we knew her a long time ago. She was kinda horrible and hurt all of us. Now Dan thinks she’s changed and wants to meet up with her.”

It wasn’t technically a lie. More of not the complete truth. Either way, it still struck a chord of guilt in Dan’s system. He remembered how even if Agnes didn’t get to them this time around he’d still have to lie his entire life about who he is. He wished it could be another way.

“What did she do?” Phil asked, looking sympathetically at Dan.

“That’s not important and I don’t want to talk about it right now.” He snapped.

Phil looked down into his bottle. He didn't want to push Dan to talk about things he didn’t want to but he knew it wasn’t healthy to suppress memories. Phil cared about Dan so much and it would break his heart to see him upset about something, let alone the darkness of his trauma of his past. So instead of pressing, he just continued to stare into the amber liquid sloshing in his brown bottle.

After a few moments of silence, Phil spoke up again. “I could go with you?”

“What?”

“I could go with you to see Agnes so you’re not alone.”

Dan stood up to meet Phil. “No way.”

“Please, Dan. I know you don’t want to talk about whatever she did to you but at least let me be there for you! That’s what partners do, right?”

Pain stung through Dan, but he still remained firm. “Absolutely not.”

“Please, Dan! I want to help, why won’t you let me help?”

“I said no, John!” Dan shouted. He realized his mistake, but it was too late. The fateful words had already left his mouth. In one second this perfect lie he had been telling decayed into nothing, and through the decay he could see the hurt on Phil’s face.

“Dan…” He whispered. “Who’s John?”

Dan panicked. His heart started to beat faster and his breathing became rapid. He looked over to Chris and PJ for help but they just looked at him. “I- I-”

“Who’s John?” Phil repeated, this time harder.

Dan continued to stutter. “I-I don’t- I just-.”

“Just tell him.” PJ said softly. Phil glanced at him. “Just tell him the truth.”

“Tell me what?” Phil asked, his voice cracking. “Dan what’s going on? What does he mean ‘the truth’?”

Phil looked at Dan in the eyes, but Dan barely had the courage to look back at him at all. There was so much agony in his blue eyes, so much disbelief. He remembered the asylum and a girl with the same coloured eyes. She was so kind to Dan. Then during treatment one day, there was an accident. She died in the asylum, and Dan remembers wishing it was him. “I- I can’t. I’m sorry, I can’t.”

He just looked at him. “Well,” He started, setting down his drink. “That’s that.” He began to walk towards the front door.

“Wait, Phil!”

He spun around. “What, Dan?! What could possibly have to say to me right now?”

Dan gulped. “I just- I wish I could tell you the truth.”

Phil just shook his head, eyes on the verge of tears.

“Fine.” PJ stood up and knocked his chair over whilst striding over to Phil. “If you won’t tell him, then I’ll show him.”

“PJ, stop!” Dan shouted.

PJ grabbed Phil’s forearm and chanted an incantation quickly under his breath. Suddenly there was a teal light growing from the spot where their skin touched, slowly climbing its way up Phil’s arm like vines. His eyes widened, mouth agape from a silent gasp. Once the light reached his irises, turning them a pale teal, PJ released his grasp on Phil.

Phil staggered back, mouth still open and face expressing shock. He looked at Chris, then at PJ, and finally at Dan. Slowly, he lifted his right and hand pointed at Dan. “You…” He breathed. Before Dan could answer, Phil’s eyes rolled back to white and he collapsed. Dan rushed forward to catch him so his head wouldn’t crash onto the floor and he ended up cradling the man in his arms like a child. He put two fingers to his throat: a pulse. Dan sighed with relief.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know he would do that.” PJ apologized.

Dan looked up angrily. “Why the fuck did you do that?”

“Hey, he was only trying to help-”

“He needs to know, Dan. Just trust me. One day you’ll thank me.”

Dan looked down at Phil in his arms. “I think you should go.”

“I suppose you’re right. Come on, Chris.” With that, the men left the flat leaving Dan to hold his lover in his arms on the cold, hard floor.

It was quiet in the apartment, more quiet than it had been recently. The quiet scared Dan. The only thing that scared him more was the future. No matter what happened now, when Phil awoke, he would remember everything. He would remember 1541, World War II, and 1962 as well. All the amazing and horrific things Dan could recall just off the top of his head would now be in Phil’s system.

Dan smoothed Phil’s hair back. He looked peaceful sleeping, even if it was a panic induced sleep. A part of him wished Phil would never have to wake up so he could always be this at peace. But this was the real world, and if one thing was for certain, when Phil woke up he would definitely not be at peace. How would he ever tell him? Dan kissed Phil’s forehead, stress building higher than the empire state. They were soulmates. If Dan had to make Phil understand then he would. Wouldn’t he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...what'd ya think? Yeah, that's what I've been working on for days. Sorry about that! I didn't feel like it was good enough for Friday and I was working Saturday so here's this. Also I can't promise to return to my normal update schedule because I have mid terms next week! YAY (please kill me) but after that I will try to be consistent! Thank you!


	12. The Many Deaths of Broken Men

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs for this chapter:  
> Call Me by Shinedown  
> Heavydirtysoul by Twenty One Pilots

Phil’s chest rose and fell methodically, his deep breaths keeping a steady pace. He was sleeping on Dan’s bed on top of the duvet, his clothes still on except for his shoes which were gently removed and placed at the foot of the bed. Phil had been asleep for hours, a sleep too deep to be woken from. Although just because he was fast asleep and breathing deeply did not mean he was at peace, oh no, for just being in the same room could prove how in pain the young man was. For his face was contorted into an expression full of suffering, and every now and then he would let out a pitiful whimper kin to animal being abused.

Dan sat with him the entire time. He tried waking him up at first, but shaking him seemed to trigger a wretched memory which lead to Phil almost crying in his dream state, so he stopped trying. Instead, Dan waited for his love to wake up. He never left him once and held his hand every time there was a particularly horrid fit of cries coming from Phil. He knew he would have to be patient and wait. That’s the only thing it was about in his life: waiting.

He bit his nails nervously, a bad habit he swore he kicked in college. There was no way of knowing what Phil would do when he woke up. There was a very good chance he could have gone insane from the rush of tragic memories, after all, Dan had had years of exposure whereas Phil had not. Would he even wake up at all? Dan tried not to think about that. Of course he would wake up, right?

 _No, stop thinking about that Dan. Surly he’s going to wake up._ But he couldn’t be certain. The possibility was all too present for Dan to have enough hope that his lover would be perfectly fine. He could just as easily fall into a coma from trauma and never wake up, or he could die right in front of him and all this would have been a waste of tears and love. There wasn’t enough optimism in the world to bring Dan out of this worrisome state.

 _If Phil was awake, he’d be positive for sure. Don’t think about the bad things, Dan. Think about the good things, for him._ Dan smiled as he reminisced all of the wonderful times that has come out of knowing Phil. He remembered playing out in the snow like children, throwing balls of snow and ice at each other and giggling immaturely. And the time when they got into a food fight and ended up throwing flour at each other, or when they accidentally set their tent on fire and scrambled for an extinguisher whilst screaming like morons. They ended up laughing about it afterwards for hours, trying to ascertain which one of them forgot to blow out the candle which caused the panic.

He began to only think of the happiness in his lives and forget about the terror at hand when he heard a stirring noise on the bed. Dan turned his head to see Phil slowly opening his eyes and blinking to adjust to the room.

“D-Dan?”

Dan got up from the chair he was sitting in and knelt beside the bed next to Phil, relieved that he was awake. “Yes, Phil I’m here. It’s okay, I’m here.”

Phil looked up at him. “G-get...get a-”

“What’s wrong? Do you need something?”

“Get- get away from me.”

Dan thought he misheard him for a second. “Wha- what?”

“I said get away from me.” Phil turned away and kicked his legs over the bed, stumbling out of the room. “Don’t talk to me.”

“Phil, stop!” Dan stood up and went after Phil. It wasn’t very hard, as Phil was having trouble walking after sleeping so roughly.

He whirled around and glared at Dan. “Oh, I’m sorry, I thought I was John? Or Oscar? Or James or Eric or Charlie? I thought I was just Phil, but it turns out I’m a whole lot more than that!”

Dan fell silent for a brief second. “So you do remember.” “

Yeah, I do. Every single horrible bit.”

“You thought it was horrible?”

Phil looked at Dan like a was about to throw something at him. He ran his hands through his hair. “Did you know this is the oldest I’ve ever been?”

Dan froze. “What?”

“I’ve never been twenty-eight years old before because I’ve always died before then!”

“I thought you lived longer as Eric because I wasn’t in your life anymore.”

“I wish. After my dad disowned me and almost killed me I got addicted to drugs of all types. Overdosed at twenty-two in a back alley and no one shed a tear.”

“I- I’m so sorry I didn’t know.”

But Phil wasn’t finished. “You see, that’s the only time. That I wasn’t murdered, you see. Every other _god damn_ time I was killed by the hands of someone else and had my life stolen. Hanged, shot, poisoned, I was pushed into a frozen river and swept away when I was six, Dan! I was fucking _six years old_ and I was murdered all because of you!”

Dan had never seen Phil this angry ever. No, not angry; frightened. “I’m sorry.”

“Is that all you have to say?!”

“What else do you want me to say?! That I wish I never tried to find you? That I would go back and redo everything? I’ll say it Phil, but I won’t mean a damn word. I’d make exactly the same choice over and over again.”

“Why?”

“Because I love you!” Dan walked towards Phil. “And I know you love me too.”

Phil walked backwards to put distance between himself and Dan. “Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare try and get me to forgive you with that ‘because I love you shit.’ It’s not going to distract me and it’s not going to work.”

Suddenly Phil gasped and clamped a hand around his mouth. “Oh my God. That’s what this all was, wasn’t it? Wasn’t it?! You didn’t want me to move in with you because you love me to be around, you did it because I was getting suspicious. Am I right?”

Dan looked down. “...Yes.”

“What the Hell?” Phil whispered. His blue eyes watered and his face began to swell. It was heartbreaking, seeing him on the verge of tears. Dan wanted to do nothing but hug him and try to convince him that everything would be alright, but who knows if he would ever be able to hug him again. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I couldn’t.”

“Yes you could! There was no one holding you back, no one telling you no, so why the Hell not?”

“Because I couldn’t, Phil! I literally couldn’t! The last time I told someone the truth they locked me up in a mental hospital and tried to fry my brain back to normal! I didn’t tell you because every time I opened my mouth to do so, all I could see were the doctors telling me to ‘just hold on and then you can be normal again’. I thought I was mad. Until I saw you in the war, then I knew you were real.”

Phil paused. “You told me you were at a boarding school.”

“I lied.”

“It’s like I don’t even know who you are anymore! I just met this cute, funny guy who loves cooking and music at a bar but now? I’ve known you for so long, Dan, but I still have no clue who you are.” Phil laughed sourly. “And I thought you didn’t care for liars. Do you know how hard it was for me to relive dying so harshly so many times?”

“How do you think I feel? I’ve had to watch you die just as many times! _I_ had to listen to you choke on your food until you stopped breathing. _I_ had to watch as you dropped dead on the floor lifeless. _I_ was the one who held you in my arms and talked to you as the colour drained from your face and the life in your eyes! Every time you died, Phil, so did I!”

“Well I’m sorry that my deaths were so hard on you. Maybe this time I’ll try to die a little better. Or maybe you don’t have to be there at all when I die, how about that?”

“You don’t understand-”

“No, I understand perfectly. I died and you cried, repeat for four hundred years, ever since we met.”

“Do you wish it was different?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“ Do you wish that we had never met and all this never happened?”

Phil sighed deeply. “Of course I wish it was different. That Agnes never found me, that neither of us could remember a thing, that we never had to have this fight. But that doesn’t mean I wish I had never met you. You’re still the love of my life, no matter how much I hate you or how shit my life is. I literally can’t change that no matter how hard I try.”

“But would you if you could?”

“Why are you asking me this? You know the answer.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

Phil made a noise of frustration. “I love you, okay? Are you happy now that I’ve said it? Is your ego boosted enough or would you like me to provide a more detailed answer?”

“That’s not what I meant-”

“Please, don’t lie to me again. I don’t think I could take it.”

There was another long, awkward silence. Dan was left speechless and Phil had already said what he wanted to. It was the first time in a long time when they didn’t have anything to say to one another. Finally, Dan thought of something.

“Phil,” He began carefully. “Do you remember when we first met?”

“Which time?” He sneered sarcastically.

Dan pretended as if the harsh words didn’t sting. “The first time. You cake into my bakery wanting a dozen loaves of bread. Who orders that much bread for themselves? I thought you were crazy. But now I know the only crazy thing about you is how you sing songs out of key and leave socks all around the house. Or how you hate cheese and love cats even though they could potentially kill you.”

He approached Phil again, except this time he didn’t back away. “What I’m trying to say is you’re absolutely insane in every way. But maybe I am too, and that’s why you’re perfect.”

Phil had started to cry; hot, salty tears streaming down his face and leaving streak marks. For a second he just stood in the same spot, staring at Dan and letting the tears drip down his face. Then he lunged at him, arms wrapping around his shoulders, burying his face in the crook of the younger boy’s neck. He began to sob, shaking wildly with every breath.

“Hey...shhh it’s okay. It’s okay, Angel. Everything is okay….”

Phil’s sobbing slowed. “I hate you so much, you idiot.”

“I hate you too, then. And if I’m an idiot, then let’s be idiots together.”

He pulled his head up from Dan’s shoulder and looked up at him, sniffling and wiping away the tears on his face. “You know, I really like you better with curly hair, brown eyes.”

Dan grinned. “And I like you better with glasses, blue eyes.”

The two boys stood there in the centre of the hallway, crying softly and gazing at each other fiercely. They clung onto one another like they would never be able to touch each other again, and when they kissed, they kissed with all the passion in the world. It was rough and needy, careless and desperate, just how it should always be. Phil knew that his lives with Dan could never be perfect, and Dan knew that secrets would ever turn out well, especially with the one you love. They also knew that there was still so much to talk about, so much to explain. But for now, they just held each other close and kissed, and for a moment everything was fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy Crap, I'm actually updating for once!!!!! I know it's been a little while since the last chapter it's just I've had midterms and been trying to study for them (which I'm really bad at lol ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ oh well) but now that they're done I'll try to post regularly again! Btw I hope this chapter made you cry because if you hadn't noticed, I enjoy your tears. In like a non creepy way, though. In other news, OoT reached 1K hits! *throws confetti at your face* I just want to thank all of you so much for sticking with this fic, it means a lot to me! I hope you enjoy(ed) it!


	13. When Knowledge Burns Like Fire

It was official. Dan was going to go see Agnes. No matter how many times Chris begged him not to, or PJ shook his head in disapproval, he was going to anyway. He had to see her. He had to know if she was different or not. What if she had changed? What if she had changed, and Dan still believed her to be the horrible person she was, then who was the bad guy? Exactly. Even if the chance that Agnes was a better person was minuscule, it was still there, and he had to take it.

Despite having an emotional breakdown a mere ten hours before, Phil was somehow in a fine condition. At least, he appeared to be. He supported Dan’s decision to see Agnes, as he himself tried to see the best in everyone including his own murderer. Phil even offered to go with him just in case, but Dan told him that it was something he had to do alone. Dan had been leaning on Phil for too long, and it always ended up badly for Phil. Of course, he didn’t take no for an answer, but finally the couple came to the compromise that Dan would see her alone, but Phil would wait outside just in case anything were to happen. Dan reassured his lover that nothing would, but precautions never hurt anyone.

Finally, it was 7:45 and Dan and Phil were getting ready to leave, their friends still in mass disapproval of their plan. PJ sat sulking in an armchair whilst Chris on the other was fully alert and spitting out every possible disaster to try and lure them away from danger.

“What if she hurts you? What if she kills you? What if she-”

“Chris calm down it’s just coffee. Besides, she can’t kill me in public. She’d be locked away.”

“I know but _still_ -”

“He’s got a point, Dan. She’s a witch. I of all people should be able to know just exactly she can do. Even if she doesn’t kill you, she could bewitch you. Agnes could trick you into loving her and your life would be over.”

“If she was going to do that, I think she would have done so years ago, don’t you think?” PJ glared at Phil, knowing he was right. There was no way to stop them now, their minds were set on peace. Phil looked up and Dan and he nodded: it was time.

“I’ll be back in at least an hour.” Dan said.

“If you’re even back at all.” Chris grumbled.

Instead of replying, Dan just sighed and left, Phil trailing behind him. The door slammed loudly in the quiet of the hallway, neither of the boys saying a word despite so much on their minds. The silence was deafening.

*

The walk to the coffee shop was short in perspective, but it felt like miles. Each step pounded slowly, every heart beat resonating like molasses. It was terrifying for Phil, but mortifying for Dan. When the older boy looked at his lover and saw just how anxious he was of the unknown, he decided to do something about it. With little thinking, he looked at the stars.

“Hey, Dan?”

Dan looked over at Phil. “Yeah?”

Phil pointed at the sky. “Pick out the brightest star you can find.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

He rolled his eyes but obeyed. He pointed up at a single silver star. “That one.”

“Hmm. I see.” Phil said, rubbing his chin. “That one says you’re a nerd.”

Dan snorted loudly. After that, he couldn’t control himself and started laughing wholeheartedly and eventually Phil joined in. “Way to be romantic there, Philly.”

“You’re welcome, Danny.”

There was more silence, yet this time it was comfortable. Dan spoke up again. “Phil? What do you think will happen if it turns out Agnes is telling the truth?”

He thought for a second. “I think I’d live with you forever. Without anyone to stop us. We could be happy.”

Dan grinned. “Yeah? Me too.”Suddenly, Phil stopped dead in his tracks. Dan was about to ask why when he realized they had arrived.

It was probably the last place Dan ever expected to meet Agnes. The outside was painted a cream-beige colour like the rest of the buildings on the block and pine benches and tables were set up for customers. A large, clean window peered into the shop and warm, orange lighting poured out into the dark, spring night. Above the door was a black sign with white letters pressed neatly on: “Wild and Wood Coffee House”. It was very cozy and very contrasting to Agnes.

Dan looked at his phone and read that it was eight o’clock and spun around to look at Phil. He was biting his lip with nervousness too, but immediately dropped the look for Dan’s sake. Instead he grabbed his hand with both of his and leaned forward closely, the smell of mint on his breath breezing across Dan’s face.

In a short and hurried tone, he whispered “I believe in you.” With that, Phil kissed Dan briefly then let go and nudged him into the coffee house, reassuring him that he would be waiting outside the entire time.

When he entered the coffee house, it was even more opposing to Agnes’ likes than he thought before. Floor to ceiling covered in mahogany wood, black chalkboards with specials written in curly white writing, pale brown paint straight from a vintage catalogue, golden and orange lights shining from spotlight styles fixtures. However the strangest thing about the choice of this specific coffee house was not that is did not fit well with the witch, but how well it sat with Dan. It reminded him of the Boulangerie, but quainter. It must have been a coincidence that Agnes chose a setting Dan would love. Wasn’t it?

For a moment as Dan was lost in the beauty of the establishment he forgot as to why he was in the coffee house anyway; and then he saw her. Agnes was sitting in the corner silently, golden brown hair in tight curls wearing a sage knit jumper. In her hands was a small white, porcelain tea cup in which she sipped slowly out of, looking down at nothing. It was the first time he had ever seen her looking so...normal.

Slowly, Dan approached the table. At the sound of his footsteps, Agnes looked up and smiled, flashing bright white teeth. She motioned with her hand for him to sit down in the wicker chair opposite her. He cautiously sat down, never taking his eyes off of her whilst she continued to smile at him. Once sat down, he peered around the coffee house more. To his disappointment, there were only a few other people there; he had counted on a crowd for security. Yet somehow the small space seemed safer with less people, cozier even.

Within a few minutes, a waitress with long blonde hair and thick blue rimmed glasses made her way to the table, pen and notebook in hand. She smiled warmly before asking Dan for his order.

“I’ll just have a caramel latte. Thanks,” He looked at her name-tag “Victoria.”

The waitress smiled again. “No problem.” His gaze followed Victoria all the way until she was back behind the counter out of earshot then leaned forward closer to Agnes.

“So why exactly did you ask me to come here?”

She took a sip out of her cup. “Do you like chai tea? I always thought it to be too sweet, but now I find it actually quite pleasant.”

Dan remained patient. Agnes always had a way of twisting conversations. “Yes, but why are we here?”

“That, Daniel is entirely up to you.”

“What do you mean?”

Agnes laughed. “You never stop asking questions do you?” He gave no reply and she sighed. “It means that we can talk about whatever you want to. Just ask.”

He looked at her oddly. Agnes was nothing but secrets, why would she be opening up now? It didn’t matter, however, as Dan desperately needed some answers. “Okay….” He began. “Let’s start with how did you find me?”

“Oh, Dan. I never lost track of you.”

“But you’ve been gone for a century-”

“No.” She interjected. “You haven’t _seen_ me for a century. Big difference.”

“But _how_ did you find me?”

Agnes rolled her eyes as if the answer was mediocre. “With memory tracking. Witches have great memories you see, even better than those who are blessed like you, and there are certain spells we can use to see where they are. I’ve been waiting, Dan. Waiting for you.”

Before Dan could reply, Victoria came back with his latte. He thanked her hurriedly and waiting for her, yet again, to leave so he could finish his conversation.

“So why did you never show yourself before?”

“Because I didn’t want to. Is that a crime?” She snapped.

“No-no. It isn’t. I was just curious I guess.”

She smiled again, her tone of voice switching immediately, “It’s alright, Dan. No harm done, right?”

“Right.” He paused for a second, thinking long and hard about his next question. “Agnes? Why are you back here? In my life, I mean.”

“I wasn’t lying when I said I want to be your friend. But I would be if I said I didn’t love you, because I do. I have for years. But as your friend, it is my purpose to try and help you.”

“....Help?”

“Yes. Help. I’ve realized that they way I’ve been going about this is wrong. Over the years I watched you and waited then sabotaged you quietly, I mean, we haven’t had a real conversation before now since the beginning. But now- now I know better. We need each other.”

 _Alright, this sounds like the Agnes I know._ “What exactly are you getting at here?”

“It’s John. Or whatever his name is now. Besides the point, he needs to be gone. Don’t you understand? He is poison. He is a toxic mass of destruction, sucking the life out of you every moment and you need to be saved.”

Dan shook his head slowly and laughed bitterly, low and deep. “Wow. You know what Agnes? You really had me fooled there. I _actually_ thought that you had changed.” He stood up from the table, fully prepared to leave. “It’s 2015. Why are you even still doing this? Gay. Is okay. Literally.” He began to walk off. “Why don’t you do us all a favour and stay the fuck away from me and my boyfriend.”

“I don’t think that’s a wise decision Daniel.”

He spun around. “And why not?”

“Because you’re forgetting one very important detail. Or person, I should say. The one person we have in common, the neutral.”

“Beatrice.” He whispered.

“Yes, Beatrice.”

“I thought you were friends?”

She chuckled. “As if I would be friends with a dike.” Dan’s hands curled into fists at the horrid word. “I only befriended her to get close to you. I thought it was risky, but I guess it payed off.”

“How so?” He asked through gritted teeth.

“Because now I have some leverage. And if I don’t get what I want, there will definitely be some consequences.” She motioned to the chair again. “Come. Sit.”

 _I should leave. I should definitely, one-hundred percent, bolt my ass out of here._ And that’s what he planned to do. Yet somehow, he made his way back over to the table and once again sat across from Agnes Childs, except this time he knew exactly what kind of person she was.

“You said that you always planned for our demise. How?” He asked slowly. “I never saw you there, and it wasn’t even your fault that we got separated in the sixties, so how?”

She smiled wickedly. “Mothers are so caring, aren’t they?”

“I asked you a question don’t you try and-”

“Zip it.” She pointed her finger towards his mouth and a short, electric blue stream of light shot out directly into Dan’s mouth. When he tried to speak again, his jaws snapped closed against his will forcing him to remain quiet. “That’s better. And if you’d stop interrupting me, you’d know that I was answering your question.”

“John was such a nice boy. Always was, always will be. His mother was the main cause. She was so kind and loving, she supported him no matter what. He is the reason he turned out the way he did. Therefore I experimented. What would happen if she was gone? So I ran her over with a car! Did you know that it wasn’t the crash that killed her? Oh no, it wasn’t until her car caught fire that she started to scream. And did she scream! I thought it’d go on forever...but it didn’t. She burnt up like a forgotten roast and no one was there to save her.” She laughed at the memory, almost as if she was fond of it.

“And I suppose you’re wondering about that time in the seventies? How come you never even got to meet him? I’ll make it short and sweet. He was a child, not yet exposed to the world, and I couldn’t help myself. I was little James’ nanny. He said ‘I can’t get too close to the river, Aggie. I can’t swim.’ I told him that it would be alright, as long as he stayed beside me. All it took was one push and he was gone. I convinced everyone it was an accident, and for the first time I didn’t have to flee town. It felt...freeing.”

If only Dan could speak. He had no idea what he would say, but anything was better than listening to Agnes talk about murdering Phil and his family in such a gruesome way. He felt something hot and wet drip down his cheek, and he realized he was crying.

“So there. Is that all?”

He nodded.

Agnes got up to leave but then turned around. “Oh and Dan? If you try to stop me from what I’m going to do, Phil won’t be the only casualty this time. I’m _so_ glad you’ve made some new friends.” The witch walked off into the night, leaving Dan there by himself.

Dan sat alone in the coffee house, now empty except for Victoria. He didn’t have the heart to move. Her spell had worn off, but there was nothing to say and no one to say it to. Suddenly he realized that there was music in the coffee house, playing too softly to hear before. He recognized the tune, it was a familiar one. _In the end, it doesn’t even matter._ In that moment, he broke. Dan let his head fall onto the wooden table allowed himself to sob loudly, not caring about the waitress watching him. Then he felt cold hands wrap around him, smoothing his hair whilst he cried.

“Shhh.” Phil soothed. “It’s okay, Dan. It’s alright.” Dan continued to sob heavily, tears streaming down his pink cheeks.

“Phil.” He cried. “This is it.”

“What do you mean?” Dan gulped and looked up at the boy with blue eyes.

“We’re never going to escape her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hereby pledge to never promise you guys anything ever again bc I'm horrible at sticking to plans. signed- velvetcandy. Yeeeeeah sorry about not updating, I have absolutely no excuse this time other than I'm lazy and keep having ideas for other fics bouncing around my head. yup. anyways...what did you guys think?! I've been saving this minor plot twist for a while, but just wait until later. That's when the big guns come out. heheheheh


	14. Of Glass and Smoke

The sound of glass crashing onto wooden floors was clamorous, like a thousand wind chimes singing a broken song unknown to all. Dan and Phil sat silently listening to the song with pursed lips and heads hung low, knowing exactly why the noise was ensuing. It was their friend the witch: PJ Liguori. The couple had come back from their meeting with Agnes and had told their friends everything that happened. They assumed PJ and Chris might have comforted them, but instead they were greeted with anger. Cold, bitter anger.

The green-eyed man threw yet another glass at the wall and Dan watched as it shattered into pieces. “You both are so stupid! Do you realize this? I Hope you do!”

Dan and Phil sat on PJ and Chris’s sofa inside their flat, watching the old witch take out his anger on a few glasses. Chris sat across from them, a look of defeat playing on his face like a film. He looked empty.

“I told you this was a fucking bad idea!” The shattering had stopped now. Instead the sound of books being thrown off tables replaced it, the loud booms of the binding making the boys flinch.

“I’m sorry Peej.” Phil started. “We just thought-”

“Well congratulations for thinking. But you were fucking wrong.”

“Hey there’s no need for that PJ.”

“You know what Dan? There is a need. Because I told you not to do the thing. Then you went and did the thing, and now we’re all fucked.” PJ ran a hand through his wild curls and laughed bitterly. “I should've known the very first time. From the first moment you said hello in this life, I was dead. I should’ve known….” He trailed off as if he was merely talking to himself.

“PJ…” Dan tried slowly. “It’s not too late. We- we can fix this.”

PJ snapped his head towards Dan. “Can we though? Are you sure we can?! Because what I know about Agnes is that she will stop at nothing to get what she wants! And what she _wants_ is us gone!”

“Maybe we can-”

“You don’t _understand_ , Dan. We can’t _do_ anything! You of all people should’ve been thinking about the consequences! I blessed Phil with Memories because you two could run away and enjoy your lives together, but instead you do this, and she wants all of us now!” PJ strode up to Dan, making him stand up as well.

“Don’t you _see?!_ Your boyfriend is dead! We’re all dead! You’ve killed us all!”

“PJ!” Chris shouted. He looked down at his hands and saw that they were balled into fists, a dark red glow surrounding them. No longer were Chris’s eyes empty, as now the look of fear settled in them. It didn’t take much to guess that PJ had don’t something like this before and it ended up badly.

The witch relaxed his hands and the glow faded until nothing besieged his pales, slender fingers. He looked back up, bewilderment flashing in his turquoise eyes. “I’m so sorry. I’m- I’m sorry.” He turned on his heel quickly, rushing down a hallway to another room. Only a few seconds later did Phil follow him, determined to condole him.

Chris sat back down after having stood up to warn PJ, raggedly running a hand through his tangled brown locks. Dan sat down next to him in silence. Neither of them wanted to say anything. Finally, Dan thought of something.

“Chris? Are you alright?”

He sighed heavily. “No, not really. But I’m better than PJ is. Why?”

“It’s just you were taking her arrival pretty badly so I can’t imagine how this must be for you.” Dan looked down, wondering how sore of a spot it was.

Chris looked at his friend in a confused way. “What do you mean?”

“When she got here, PJ said you took it pretty rough. That you were drinking a lot and...passing out.” Dan trailed off at the look of further confusion on Chris’s face.

“Dan, that...wasn’t me.”

“What?”

“That was PJ doing all those things. I felt horrible for him. I would come home from work and he would just be laying there in the dark, not saying a word. In those weeks it felt like we barely spoke at all.” Chris looked towards the room where PJ and Phil were with a sad look in his eyes.

“But-why? Why would he pretend like it was you and not him?”

Chris stared at Dan in realization. “He never told you what she did to us- to him, did he?”

“No.”

He took a deep breath, like the story was too painful to tell. “Do you wanna know something about immortals, Dan? We hate to be alone. Imagine having to live forever, watching all of your loved ones die right before you. Even worse, watching them grow old whilst you stay young forever. It’s wretched. That’s why we band together, us freaks.”

“I met PJ in 1130 when I was nineteen and he was fifteen before either of us were actually immortal.” He paused. “The way it works is immortals stop physically aging when they are at their mental and emotional maturity. He was born in 1115 and since his biological dad was a witch, he was too and became immortal. Anyways, he found out he was a witch at seventeen years old by his dad. He was shocked and felt so isolated from anyone else. I couldn’t get him to actually speak to me properly for weeks. Then finally...he met her.”

“Like I said, immortals don’t like to be alone. Her name was Sophia. She was small and creative, with brown curly hair and big brown doe eyes. PJ and her could have been siblings and none of us would have doubted it. With her was two other witches: Jamie and Louis. They were already about a hundred years old when they met PJ, so they taught him everything they knew and guided him along with being an immortal. It was perfect.”

“They were a pact for seven years, and if it were meant to be, I’m sure the four of them would have stayed together for much, much longer. But it didn’t. Agnes Olivia Childs was a twenty-six year old woman on her way to being a nun. Everywhere she went, she made sure people knew about God, but mind you this was in the 1100s so naturally if you didn’t oblige you would be put on trial. She had no idea she was a witch. But there’s this-thing that witches can use to find others like them, that’s how Sophia found Louis, Jamie, and PJ. They found Agnes and told her about what she was, how she could do magic and would live forever. The immortal thing really perked her up, but not the magic part. She freaked out, told them they were monsters that they needed to be punished for their sins. So they gave up; decided she was a lost cause. But Agnes didn’t.” Chris looked down at his hands, words choking up slightly.

“We were at my home. The witches all had their own to share, and it was just me and PJ. I decided to walk him back to his house, just in case or to be romantic or whatever, and that’s when we saw it. Their entire house was up in bright red flames, the smoke so thick it made us choke. And the screams- the screams were the worst. I can still hear them shrieking even now, centuries later. But that was it for PJ. He loved Sophia, with all his heart and he cared about her more than anyone else could. He tried so hard to save her but he couldn’t. Even after he dragged her body from the rubble and tried to heal her, it was too late.” He clenched his fists hard. “Agnes was never seen in that town again, but her trace was at the burn site. She killed his family in cold blood, three of the people he loved the most and he was never the same. That was the year he stopped aging.”

There was a thick and heavy silence, but Dan didn’t say a word because he felt as if Chris wasn’t finished yet. He laughed. “Did you know that I never wanted to be an immortal? I had never thought about it once. I loved PJ and he loved me, but he would never want to put me through the pain of watching yourself lose your loved ones. Instead he was going to live his life with his group of witches. But when they died...he couldn’t. I made him turn me immortal so he wouldn’t have to live alone, but I know I can never replace her. I may be his soulmate, but Sophia was his sister.”

Chris sat back on the sofa, finished with his piece and completely drained from telling the story. It was clear that those were the worst days of his life, from the paleness of his cheeks to the lack of shine in his eyes that always seemed to be smiling. Chris was a happy man, but all he was in this moment was a shell of whom Dan first met at Starbucks in February.

Dan sighed. He never knew how much pain the two of them had gone through. He should have known in all honesty, both of them had lived for about nine hundred years and one of them or both were bound to have been caught up in a tragedy such as this. In that moment Dan realized just how selfish he had been. All this time, he could only think about himself and saving himself. Even when he wanted to save Phil, he only did it because he wanted him alive. Not once did he ever think about all of this would affect PJ and Chris, and now it might kill both of them.

He edged forward a little. It was time for a sincere apology. “Chris,” He began. “I should have listened to you. I never understood how anything I did affected others because I was always by myself. But now that I have friends for once, I should have been more aware. I’m sorry. And I’m sorry for what happened to you, to both of you. I’ll be damned if Agnes lays a hand on either of you.”

Chris smiled faintly. “Thank you, Dan. I know that you just wanted to see the best in her, but the first rule about witches is that they never change. PJ’s been the exact same ever since the Twelfth Century. And God knows Agnes is still the same bitch she’s always been. Damn, what I would give to punch her right in her stupid face right now.”

Dan laughed. “You have _no_ idea.”

The sound of footsteps turned the boys’ attention away from their heavy conversation and towards the approaching PJ and Phil. Phil immediately retreated back to Dan’s side, sitting so close almost as a cover for warmth or strength. PJ, however, remained standing up facing the three of them. He looked like he had been crying, but now his facial features were as strong and confident as ever.

With a sharp inhale, he began to speak. “The only thing I’m apologizing for is how harsh my words were, not that they weren’t true, because they were.”

Dan nodded. “I know.”

“So...are we okay?”

Dan smiled. “Yeah, we’re okay. And I know I fucked up really badly, but we can fix this. We can fix it for good and then we’ll never have to deal with it ever again. Right?”

“Right.” PJ walked forward and hugged Dan hard like he hadn’t been hugged in years. Dan also hugged back, holding his dear friend tight in his arms. He had promised to fix everything, but was there even a way to do so?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> plot twist? plot twist. Also if any of you have song suggestions for certain chapters, please let me know as they're greatly appreciated! Thank you! ^-^


	15. Green-Eyed Souls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs for this chapter:  
> "When She Loved Me" by Sarah McLachlan  
> "Love to Hate You" by Erasure (end of chapter only)

Hot steam rose from the mug like a silvery cloud, drifting slowly then disappearing almost as soon as it had appeared. The warm amber tea inside the mug tasted of honey yet had a bitter aroma as well creating a surreal effect; an illusion almost. Agnes smiled as she sipped the tea carefully. It was probably her favourite flavour as she felt like it represented her as a person.

A single brown curl fell from her shoulder. The witch picked it up carefully and examined it. All her life she had had this average golden brown colour, and all her life she had put up with it. Curling and straightening, brushing and combing, braiding and pinning. Yet somehow, for some strange reason, she wasn’t bored of it.

Agnes was never one to tire over the status quo and tradition was high on a list of priorities. Almost everything she knew came from her family, and everything they knew came from theirs. In all honesty, the woman’s mind was plainly and simply archaic. To change one’s mind would be to change one’s heart, but her heart was broken in the irreparable way. She hadn’t truly felt love in the longest time, and what once was her heart is now cold and hard as stone. However, to say that she was always this way would be a lie. Believe it to be true or not, but Agnes Olivia Childs was once a good person.

On the night of the twenty-seventh in 1113, a baby girl with dark green eyes was born to a mother and a father. On the same night, the mother of the child passed away due to complications during childbirth, and the girl was motherless before she even started her life. This child was none other than Agnes, not yet who she is, and too young to understand why the world is so cruel. Her father was not a pleasant man. For one instance, he wanted a son, not a daughter. When Agnes was born, he wept at the loss of his potential heir, the hope for a boy to raise now dead to him. The green-eyed girl was born unloved and unwanted.

But Agnes was not alone in her youth; before her there was another girl born of the same mother. Her name was Elinor. She and her sister looked quite different at first glance, Agnes with golden brown curls and a freckled splashed face and Elinor with dark brown waves and olive skin. Yet they shared their mother’s dark green eyes like that of a wood. Elinor used to tell Agnes that their eyes were once forests long ago, and that the stars would shine so brightly every night that the colour became timeless as the evergreen. Agnes loved Elinor’s stories, and Elinor loved Agnes.

Elinor was seven years old when her mother died, old enough to remember. Unlike her father, she didn’t blame the new child. Instead she welcomed her into her arms and took an oath to protect her forever. From then on she was like a mother to the poor girl. They grew up side by side and arm in arm, inseparable from the moment Agnes could walk. The older girl taught the younger the ways of the world how she learnt them, but only the good.

“The world is magic” she would say to her. “If you open your eyes and really look around, you can see it.”

“Really?” Agnes would ask with wide eyes.

“Yes really!” Elinor would jump up excitedly making her sister giggle. “There are fairies in the trees! And stars in the wind! Fires burn in the souls of all and eyes shine as precious gems from years ago. If you look for this magic, Agnes, you can find the good in everyone. Everyone deserves a second chance.”

“Everyone?”

“Yes, everyone Aggie.”

“Even father?”

Elinor would grow silent when Agnes brought forth this question, no matter how many times Agnes asked. She would say yes; even the man who could not care less about his daughters deserved a second chance. One night, when Agnes asked the same question, Elinor decided to show her something.

“Would you like to see a secret?”

“What is it, Ellie?”

“You have to promise not to tell father, can you do that Aggie?”

“Of course Elinor. I would do anything or you.”

It was then that Elinor showed her magic unlike any other from the stories and fables told. The older girl slowly opened her palms and lilac light emerged, swirling like a storm amongst pinks and golds. The light shifted into the form of a butterfly fluttering its wings gracefully. Most would be afraid of this magic, a definite omen of witchcraft, but Agnes wasn’t. She loved her sister dearly and trusted her even more so, no matter how perilous the impending consequences were.

It wasn’t long until their father found out about Elinor’s abilities. He was a man of intense standards and strong beliefs. The bible was one of two guides in his life, anger the other. A witch had no place on Earth, let alone his own home. The only place one of her kind belonged was Hell, and he had every intention to put her there.

It must be stated that the father of the girls never intended to kill Elinor. In fact, he only meant to take her to the church where a trial would await her for witchcraft, but death was her ultimate fate. The young woman resisted her father’s strain, but he pulled on her and dug his nails deep into her skin, a pain too great to ignore. In his wretched mentality there was little worry about the state of his eldest daughter, and when the pair were faced by steep marble steps, only one made it down whole. The event was accompanied by the screams of the younger daughter in utter horror as she watched the only good thing in her life be torn away right before her eyes. She was only nineteen.

The death of her sister broke Agnes mentally and emotionally. Without another person to rely on, her father wanted nothing to do with her. So he sent Agnes to become a nun where she was brainwashed into believing how her father did, and the magic she once wished for faded away along with the last bit of her remaining hope. Magic was no longer beautiful; it was death.

The memories of what magic had done to her sister were still fresh in her mind even seven years later when a gangly group of young people approached Agnes and told her some disturbing news. The curse upon her sister lay with not only Elinor, but with Agnes as well. Distraught, the nun attempted to exile them, but the information had already begun to drive her mad. How would this plague affect her? What if the Sisters discovered it? With so many more questions, she visited the witches at their home. But emotions are what controls magic, and the fear in her heart burned brighter than fire, a fire that lead on to destroy the only ones capable of helping Agnes.

Scared and alone, the young witch ran. There was no way of knowing what she was capable of and there was no one to teach her the way of the world. The witches were dead and so was her sister. Years past and Agnes became even more distraught in her solitude, madness consuming her every thought. She learnt how magic worked by herself and practiced at it until she was ready for her ultimate mission. The night she killed her father was cold and bitter, and as she watched the life drain from his eyes, Agnes realized that she felt nothing. He had never loved her and neither her to him. She was no longer scared of magic.

Agnes winced as she burned her tongue on the boiling tea and chuckled to herself lightly. Even after years of living, she was still horrible at making tea. Always too hot or too cold. She looked out the window of her small flat into the streets below bustling with businessmen and tiny tots alongside tired mothers. She smiled. It had been years since the witch had lived in London, she had forgotten how much she had missed it.

It was times like these when Agnes wished she had a friend to tell all of these things to, but after so many years of being alone it was uncertain that it was even possible for her to make and keep a friend. Was it she that caused the pain of others? Or was she merely a mirror that reflected what was brought unto her?

Agnes stood up and poured the rest of the tea down the sink and watched the hot, amber liquid swirl down into the drain. She thought of Daniel. Not the Dan now, but the Daniel she used to know. Why had she loved him so much without getting as much as a kind reply in return? It was because he was kind and warm. So much so in fact that the ice in her heart melted slightly every time he spoke. It was then that Agnes didn’t feel so alone.

Emotions are complicated things, she decided, and love was for children. It was not truly love that she felt for Daniel, in all honesty it was closer to hate. But there was no way to describe it and love was the only word other than perhaps obsessed. After years and years of being alone, it was a rush to have someone push her away, it gave her something to strive for.

No, Agnes Olivia Childs was not a cruel person. She cared for things just as anyone else would and would do no harm to those not deserving of it. But she had her own agenda. And she would be damned if anyone got in the way of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually updating???? And btw I now am completely schedule free bc my life sucks and I am so busy rn you have no idea. This chapter might be a bit crappy? Idk how I feel about... What did you think? How do you feel about Agnes now? She's not SO bad, right? ;)


	16. Plots, Pain, and Ivory Elephants

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up this one has a LOT of dialogue so, sorry about that (Also make sure to read the end notes)

The phone rang loudly throughout the quiet flat, the happy tone ringing in Dan’s ears before he answered it.

“Hello?”

“We need to do something about Agnes.”

“Well it’s nice to hear from you too, PJ. How’s life?” Dan replied sarcastically.

“Can it, Howell. I’m serious.” He snapped.

“Hello serious, I’m-”

“I swear to God if you don’t shut the hell up I will turn you into a moth the next time I see you.”

“Okay, fine. What is it?”

“Like I said, we need to do something about Agnes. Meet us at our flat in half an hour and bring Phil.”

“Wait, do you have a plan?”

“Can’t talk about it.” There was a pause. “She might be listening.”

Before Dan could reply, the phone hung up and he was left there to gawk at the abruptness of the conversation. This, of course, made Dan worried. Was everything alright? Did something happen? PJ sounded pretty serious…. And what plan did they have? If it was anything like they had done before it would be risky. It always was.

“Dan?” Phil yelled from the kitchen. “Who was it?”

“It was PJ.” Dan yelled back as he was walking towards the kitchen. “He wants us to meet up with him and Chris in a half hour.”

“Where? Why?”

“At their flat. I think he has a plan dealing with- _her_.”

Phil nearly dropped the plate he was drying. He turned around slowly, shock and hope dancing in his bright blue eyes. “Are you serious right now? Is there a way to stop her?”

“I don’t know, Phil. I’m not a witch. But if PJ has a plan then... well then PJ has a plan. All we can do is our best to make sure it carries out.”

Phil hugged him tightly. It surprised Dan a little bit but then he wrapped his arms around his boyfriend as well, absent mindedly and lovingly stroking his back. He knew where this sudden affection was coming from but he didn’t want to think about it, no matter how true it was. If there was a way to stop the bane of their existence, then they would take it. Anything was better than having Agnes walk freely. But the question was, how far would they go, what risks would they take? The question scared Dan completely, with every reason to.

*

A half hour later, the four boys were sat in the lounge of Chris and PJ’s flat drinking hot green tea. It wasn’t even that cold out, but seeing as it was PJ’s favourite tea, there was no way he was letting them drink anything else. Phil didn’t have the heart or the courage to tell him that he preferred coffee.

It was a cloudy and rainy day outside, puddles of dark rain water pooling on the balcony and on the street below there seemed to be a small river flooding down the pavement at the pace of a car. Yet somehow, it was still beautiful outside. The sun must have reflected off of the clouds as the air was bright and all the curtains were left undrawn to let the cool, blue light pour through the windows into the apartment. It felt soothing almost.

“Alright.” PJ said, putting down his mug. “Time for business. I was thinking-”

PJ was interrupted by Chris slurping his tea loudly. Apparently the beverage was too hot for him and the only way he could drink it was to blow on it then slurp it up allowing the air to cool it down as he was drinking. This earned a glare from PJ. When Chris finally looked up, he realized this and gave an embarrassed smile.

“Sorry.”

 “As I was saying," PJ continued. "I have a plan on how to sort out our Agnes problem.”

“You do?!” Phil asked enthusiastically. “What is it?!”

“Woah okay, hold on just a second.” Dan grabbed Phil’s arm as if to calm him down. “How risky is this plan? I don’t want us to get hurt.”

“It’s not risky.” Chris confirmed.

“Well, that’s not exactly true. No matter what we try, if it backfires then we’ll put her at risk.” Dan looked at PJ in a confused way. “Beatrice.” PJ responded.

Dan’s heart sank. He had completely forgotten about his spunky co-worker. Agnes had promised that if they tried anything that she would- well she didn’t exactly say what she would do to her, but it wouldn’t be good that’s for sure. He didn’t want her to get hurt, but if they succeeded in getting rid of Agnes then maybe she wouldn’t have to be put in danger. After consideration, Dan felt like it was a reasonable risk to take, for the good of everyone.

“Okay.” He took a deep breath. “What’s the plan?”

PJ smiled a wide smile then cleared his throat returning to a more serious mood. “Okay, first off, I need your brain.”

“What the fuck PJ.”

“Just hear me out! Agnes did a spell on you when you met up, yes?”

“Yeah, it was weird. It was like every time I tried to speak my mouth shut on its own. Creepy.”

“Well, I did some digging through some old books that my- my sister gave me. And apparently we can use the magic she left inside of you to trace her.” The boys noticed the stall in his speech when PJ mentioned Sophia but chose to leave it be. Now was not the time to bring it up.

“You can do that?” Phil asked oddly.

“Magic...inside of me?” Dan questioned, obviously not in love with the idea. “That sounds like some weird ass porno plot.”

“Well, it’s not a porno yet, Danny.” Chris winked at him.

“Shut up, Chris.” PJ sighed and rolled his eyes. “But yes, Dan. The way magic works is it affects the brain. In the _mens vacuum_ , the term we witches use to refer to the part of your brain that isn’t used manually, a catalogue of magic is kept there. If I access yours, Dan, I can pull Agnes’ magic out and perform a tracing spell.”

“And how exactly are you going to get to my brain? Cause there is no way in hell you are cutting me open.” Dan asserted.

“Fuck off, Dan. I’m not cutting you open. Basically I produce a string of magic and propel it through your ears until it reaches the brain then the strand will do the rest.”

“You know? Somehow I think that’s worse.”

“Stop being such a baby.”

“Phil!”

“What?” Phil shrugged. “It’s not like he’s going to alter anything. Just stop acting like a child and do it! If this is what needs to happen for her to get gone, then we need to do it. _You_ need to do it.”

Dan made a frustrated noise knowing Phil was right. Whatever needed to happen they should do it, After all, it wasn't just him that was affected. All of them were.

“Fine.” He grumbled. “I’ll do it.”

“Good. Now lean back.” PJ jumped from the loveseat he was sitting in and walked around the back of the sofa behind Dan.

Dan did as he was told and leaned back against the sofa. His hands were shaking terribly and all he wanted to do was scream but he held it back. His lip started to quiver and he closed his eyes waiting for the procedure to begin. Suddenly he felt a hand holding his and when he opened his eyes he saw Phil smiling softly at him.

“It’ll be alright, Dan.” He squeezed his hand. “You’ll be okay. I’m right here.”

Dan smiled faintly. “Thank you.” He whispered.

“I have to warn you, this might hurt a little bit. I’ve never actually done this before.” PJ cautioned.

This is when Dan really started to panic. _Then why the fuck is he messing with my brain if he’s never done this before?!_

“Okay I changed my mind I don’t wanna do this anymore-” It was too late. PJ had conjured up two teal coloured strands of swirling magic and they had pierced Dan’s eardrums. There was almost no way to explain the pain. It was like that high-pitched noise one hears in the background except the sound was louder and reverberating off the walls of his mind. Dan wanted to reach up and hold his head, or hit himself in the skull until the pain stopped, but he found that his arms were frozen in place.

Dan tried to move his body in the slightest but lifting his limbs felt like trying to lift concrete blocks and he couldn’t do it. He attempted to yell and scream but his face was limp and his tongue and jaws wouldn’t budge. Even his eyes were frozen in place. In utter hysteria, Dan’s breathing quickened and a wave of nausea passed over him. Slowly, his eyes started to roll back and he could feel the world fade away from him. Were the others even there anymore? Had they left? Had they _all_ left? It seemed like an eternity of cold blackness and pain. _This is what hell must feel like._

After years of rigid agony, reality faded back and the pain stopped. Dan’s heart was still hammering like a hummingbird and his breathing was quick and anxious. He felt wetness drip from his eyes and realized that he was crying. He lifted a hand to wipe his tears and felt the relief of the weightlessness of his arms compared to the concrete they were moments before.

Phil launched himself into Dan’s arms and held onto him tightly like he was scared to lose him. Pulling back slightly, he peppered kisses all over Dan’s face and then continued to hug him.

A few seconds passed when Phil turned around to glare at PJ with the angriest look in his eye. “What the fuck was that?! You could have killed him!”

“No, it wouldn’t have killed him.”

“Look at him, PJ! He looks like death!”

“I’m fine, Phil. Just shaken up, that’s all.” Dan breathed.

“Phil, calm down. We knew what the risks were, but we promise that we wouldn’t have done it if there was even a possibility of death. Dan was safe the entire time, honestly.” Chris assured.

Phil took a moment to think this over. “I believe you. I just never want to see that look of pain on his face ever again, alright? Never.”

Dan took Phil’s hand in his own. “Don’t worry Phil, it won’t happen again. Do you know why?”

Phil shook his head to say no.

“Because I’m never letting PJ ever fucking touch me again.”

“You know, I’d hate to interrupt the bashing of myself, but look what I’ve got.” PJ held out his hands and a ball of electric blue light sat there. “It worked.”

“Good thing it did cause I never want to do that ever again.”

“Well actually in order to finish the procedure I need to-”

“Hell fucking no. I swear to God PJ if you touch me I will kill you.”

“I was kidding! Jesus Christ, someone’s hostile.”

“Can you two stop being idiots and get back to the problem at hand?”

“You’re the one to talk Chris, you act like a thousand year old toddler.”

“Whatever, Phil.”

“Okay, let’s just focus!” Dan shouted. “What’s next? Cause I know you said we can track her but that can’t be all, right? When do we get to the part about actually stopping her?”

“Right, I’m getting there.”

“Yeah Dan, calm your tits.”

“ _Chris I swear to-_ ”

“Anyway!” PJ said loudly to break the two of them up. “After I perform the tracking spell we can find out where she lives. That’s when this comes in.” PJ held up an ivory charm shaped like an elephant. “It’s called an _oblitus lepore_. If we can find a way to hide it in her her home, it will erase her memories. It will take a while for all of them to be erased, probably about a week, but it’s worth it.” He held out the charm for the others to see.

Dan took the small elephant in his hand and ran his fingers over the fine details. “What are we going to do with her when it’s done though? Once all her memories are gone she won’t be dangerous, but she’ll be helpless too.”

Chris nodded. “He’s right, Peej. We can’t let her rot. What do we do, she won’t even know she’s a witch.”

PJ pondered for a moment. “We can say we found her on the side of the road or something and take her to the hospital. We can tell her about all the immortal and witch stuff when she’s ready.”

“I don’t know about you,” Phil started. “But I don’t think this plan is as risk free as you say it is. I mean, we have to sneak into her house and hope she won’t find the charm. What if she catches us? What if something goes horribly wrong?” Phil bit his bottom lip in anxiousness.

“She won’t catch us. We’ll wait till she’s gone and sneak in and we’ll have a look out just in case. And if it makes you feel better I’ll put a sensor on the charm so we’ll know when she’s near it or not.”

“It doesn’t.”

“Phil.” Dan put his hand on Phil’s shoulder. “It’ll be okay, okay? Trust me, this will work. Just think,” He put his hand on Phil’s cheek. “Won’t it be nice to stop looking over your shoulder all the time? To not have to worry about whether or not she’s coming after you? We’ll be free, Phil. Free.”

Phil smiled. “Yeah, you’re right. It will be nice.”

“So it’s settled then!” Chris exclaimed. “We’re going to steal the Declaration of Independence.”

PJ rolled his eyes. “No, Chris. We’re not.”

“Damn. I’ve been saving that line for years.”

*

Dan wiped his sweaty brow on his arm. The heating and cooling system had broken down in the Boulangerie and all the employees were forced to work in extreme temperatures. This also happened to be the day that Dan volunteered to work in the kitchen giving platters to the other waiters. Thank God it was his break or else he would probably die.

Untying his apron from around his waist, he hung it up on a peg on the wall and retrieved his phone. Turning it on for the first time that morning, he was surprised to see that he missed not one, not two, but six calls from both Chris and PJ. _That’s weird. I wonder why they kept calling._ He thought. Just as he was about to dial up Chris, however, an incoming call rang from PJ. With haste, Dan answered it.

“Hello?”

“Dan?” PJ whispered in a worried tone.

“Peej, what’s wrong? What happened?” Dan asked, chewing on his lip.

“She knows.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dun dun DUUUNNNN (like Josh) (lol) This chapter is dedicated to user(?) Dan/Alex because I wasn't planning on updating soon but your kind words inspired me to! So thank you and all the people reading this story! Speaking of, HOLY SHIT IT HIT 2K. I was so surprised that this fic got 100 hits, let alone 2000! Seriously, thank you guys so much! I love you all! \\(• ◡ •)/


	17. Shattered Hearts Can Still Beat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Christmas and all holidays that you celebrate! It's a day late, but here is my present to you! It's better than updating a month late anyway (still sorry about that) It's kinda ironic that this is my happy Christmas gift tho cause the chapter is anything but; heh. Anyways...enjoy! (btw I cried whilst writing this chapter. Twice. I'm not proud.)

“She knows.”

Dan’s blood ran cold. His face flushed fast and all the hairs on the back of his neck stood straight up. He licked his chapped lips once and cleared his throat before he answered. “Sh-she...knows?”

There was a pause before PJ answered, he was no doubt nodding before he realized Dan couldn’t see him. “Yes.”

“How? How did she find out? Did someone tell her?” Dan felt as if he was about to cry but held the tears in, a lump forming in his throat.

“I think she had a foreign magic sensor. She could have known as soon as we placed the charm in her house and have just been toying with us all along.” Dan could almost taste the venom in PJ’s words. “I felt the spell break in the middle of the night. It felt like a part of me was shattered.”

Dan clenched his hands. “I hate her so fucking much.”

“We all do, Dan. She’s pure evil. I’m just scared of what she’s going to do now that she knows we tried to stop her.”

Suddenly Dan felt something heavy and he couldn’t breathe. His voice quiet and scared, he whispered into the phone. “ _ Beatrice _ .”

Dan hung up the phone quickly and rushed to the front of the restaurant where Bea was supposed to be hostess. His black uniform shoes squeaked on the hardwood floor as he ran swiftly to the booth by the front door. When he arrived he was out of breath and out of luck: Beatrice was not there. Instead he turned to the girl with short red hair serving as hostess and questioned her breathlessly.

“Kyle, where’s Bea?”

She shrugged. “She didn’t come into work today so I had to fill in for her. She didn’t call in or anything. Probably had an interesting night at her new girlfriend’s house, the little devil.” She laughed innocently, seemingly not worried at all about Beatrice.

“Are you sure she didn’t call in? When was the last time you heard from her?” Dan implored.

Kyle’s smile fell almost immediately. “The last I talked to her was Thursday, why? Did something happen?”

Dan’s hands shook in anxiety and fear. “I’m- I’m sorry. I have to go.” He bolted for the door, his coat still hanging on a peg in the breakroom. 

“Wait!” Kyled called after him. “What about work?!”

Dan spun around fast and looked Kyle straight in her grey blue eyes. “I’m sorry, Kyle, but I don’t give a fuck.”

With that, Dan was out the door and running down the street. It was a cold day but the pumping of his blood kept him warm. His cheeks puffed and his face turned red from the cold and running but none of this mattered. Everything around him was a blur, the people, the cars, the buildings. The only thought that occupied his mind was Beatrice. As he ran up the metal steps to Beatrice’s flat, his heart pumped and mind raced wildly. He rang the doorbell twice and continuously knocked on the door.

“Bea, it’s me! It’s Dan!” He yelled. “Please let me in!”

There was only silence.

He tried the doorknob: locked. Dan looked around to see if anyone was watching before taking a step back and kicking the door as hard as he could by the key space just as he was taught during his war time. Stepping into the space, he called one more time up the stairs.

“Beatrice?!”

With yet more silence as a response, he quickly ran up the stairs. Dan had been there many times before for parties that Beatrice would throw for no reason at all. She loved parties with her friends. As he climbed the stairs, thoughts of dread filled his mind.  _ Please be alright. Please don’t be dead. I’m going to turn the corner into your room and you’ll be there. You’ll be sleeping off a hangover and you’ll be just fine. _

Dan carefully turned the doorknob to Beatrice’s bedroom. It was dark. Feeling along the wall, he found the light switch and flicked it on. He approached the bed and saw there a figure lying in the bed on their side. He took a corner of the bedspread and pulled it back letting out a sigh when he recognized the dark skin and petite figure.   
Dan sat on the bed next to Beatrice ready to cry from relief. “You’re just sleeping.” He laughed quietly. “You’re okay.”

He took her hand in his and frowned. She was ice cold.

“Beatrice?” He shook her. There was no reaction. “Beatrice?!” He cried again.

Dan shook her for the second time and the movement turned her body so he could see her face. Hey eyes were wide open and glazed, her mouth slightly open. It was as if she wasn’t there at all. 

“Beatrice!” Dan screamed. He took his friend into his arms and held her close. He felt for a pulse and found a weak one. He kissed her forehead desperately. “You’re not dying on me, alright? You’re gonna be just fine, you understand? You are  _ not  _ fucking dying. Not you. Not now.”

Beatrice’s listless body remained still in Dan’s arms as his tears fell on her smooth, beautiful face. She was only twenty years old and already more beautiful than any goddess. Beautiful Beatrice is what they called her. And even now her wispy raven hair fell from her face and her features glowed soft in the lighting. She looked like an angel.

*

When people die, others talk about the calmness of their faces when they go. They say that deep down, the deceased know that death is the last pain they will ever feel and when they move on, they are finally happy with themselves. Peace. Beatrice’s face was pained, contorted to look like she was about to scream. It was agony to just look at her, but no one could give her peace now. That was taken away from her.

Except the young woman didn’t die. Instead she had a far worse fate. The doctors called it a reverse vegetative state, which really meant they had no idea why what was happening to her was happening. Beatrice could not move any part of her body, not even her eyes. It appeared to be a coma, but she wasn’t unconscious. A brain scan showed that she was aware of everything around her: she knew what was happening. So no, Beatrice did not die. But she was in Hell; doomed to a life of helplessness without convalescence.

The hospital was stereotypical in the fact that the nurses wore clean, pressed dress and the doctors were too kind to everyone. The entire establishment was pure white as well. From the walls, to the uniforms, to even the floors. It was like walking into a pristine place for disinfection and decontamination. It was too clean.

Dan thought that hospitals were supposed to be comforting, but the bright lights hurt his eyes and he felt like he was about to vomit. There lied his friend, her heart rate steady a but her face unmoving. It was like he was looking at a corpse that breathed and all he wanted to do was get out of the room as soon as possible. He had done this to her. It was his own fault that her soft brown eyes were glazed and her face wreaked. She was in eternal agony because of him.

A soft knock on the doorframe sounded and Dan assumed it was Phil. “I should have listened to you.” Dan whispered angrily.  

“We both agreed to do this, Dan.”

Dan turned around and was surprised to see that it was Chris standing in the doorway instead of Phil. His hair was messy and his eyes filled to the brim with sadness. It was odd to see him without even a hint of happiness. 

“I’m sorry. I thought you were Phil.”

Chris smiled a sad smile.“Unfortunately, no.” He walked into the room to sit down in one of the chairs by Beatrice and pinched the bridge of  his nose. “I’m so sorry, Dan.”

“It’s not your fault, Chris.” Dan looked back at the motionless girl. “It’s mine.”

“Don’t say that.”

“But it’s true! If I hadn’t agreed to give PJ Agnes’ magic from my head then this wouldn’t have happened. I knew the consequences and I took the risk. It’s no one’s fault but mine.”

Chris stood up and faced Dan. “Stop beating yourself up over it, Dan! We all knew the consequences! We all let her down! If there is any fault, it goes to all of us.” He sat back down again. “She wasn’t just  _ your  _ friend, you know.”

Dan was reminded of how good of friends Chris and Bea were. They could have ruled the world if they tried, anyone could see this. A memory of the two of them getting into a contest to see who could make the other uncomfortable with sexual innuendoes first came to mind and Dan laughed quietly. Chris looked at him oddly, silently questioning what was so funny.

Dan just continued to chuckle until the memory turned sad. “Yeah, I forgot you two were good friends.”

Chris smiled sadly again and looked at Bea. He leaned forward and took her hand before whispering, “We’re going to fix this. Don’t worry.”

Dan couldn’t tell if he was talking to him or to Beatrice, but perhaps it was both. Looking at Chris with Beatrice reminded him of how much people can love each other and how different love can be. Dan and Phil’s love was needy and codependent but caring nonetheless, yet Chris and PJ seemed like they hated each other sometimes but nothing could ever tear them apart. And Beatrice...she loved harder than anybody else. She loved wholeheartedly with every fiber of her being to everyone that showed her even the slightest bit of compassion. She was true, untainted love in its purest form. All she had to do was look at someone and they fell in love instantly, whether it be platonic or something else. But no one could doubt it for a second that she was loving, and she was loved.

“Chris.” Dan said strongly.

The man looked up at his friend. “Yes Dan?”

Dan looked down at his hands. “I’m going to kill her. I’m going to kill that bitch if it’s the last thing I ever do, I promise you this.”

“Dan-”

“We can’t keep letting her go off easy, she has to pay for what she’s done. It’s not just us that she’s unleashed hell upon this time, Beatrice was innocent. She did nothing to hurt Agnes yet she still did this.” Dan clenched his hands into fists. “I want to see her eyes as the life drains out of them. I want to make her suffer just like we did for so many years.”

“Dan.” Chris said firmly.

Dan looked up at his friend with a cold, hard heart as Chris stood up, a fire burning in his hazel eyes.

“What do I need to do to help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that was a wild ride. I cried so hard when I wrote this cause I love Beatrice sooo much. So what do you think of Dan's plan? Will it work out? But the real question is: How does Agnes feel about it? I guess you'll have to find out.... *maniacal laughter* (btw my tumblr is biconpancakes if you want to follow me ^-^)


	18. Tears and Daggers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An apology in advance for the shit writing this chapter

It was deadly quiet in the dark flat. Despite it being in the middle of the day, the blinds and curtains were drawn shut and all of the lamps were turned off. The heating was off as well, turning the living space into a modern cave. And in all of the darkness, coldness, and quietness sat Agnes Olivia Childs.

Agnes hated being powerless, and right now she felt more helpless than ever. She was feeling feelings she couldn't comprehend and it hurt. They were strong emotions, this was true, as they left her drained and lifeless, but what were they? Was it anger churning and burning in the pit of her stomach? Was it sorrow that pinched her throat and face? Or, perhaps, was it both?

She ran a hand through her long, golden blonde hair, now a mess and sighed. Agnes knew that lounging around wouldn't help anything. So slowly and reluctantly, she got out of her bed and slumped to the washroom. She was hesitant to turn on the bathroom light but did anyways, the bright florescent light stinging her sensitive eyes.

The woman turned the cold knob on the sink carefully making sure to get the pressure exactly right. As she did this, the events from earlier that day flooded back to her.

It was barely two o'clock in the morning when she found the ivory elephant. It's smooth, intricate details amazed her, but when she came to realize what it was, she became angry. Agnes had such high hopes for Daniel. She hoped that he would make the smart decision and come to her, but instead he and his witch friend tried to poison her mind with a charm. Luckily the foreign magic spell on her home protected the witch, but in a fit of rage she shattered the figurine to bits.

With that betrayal, Agnes knew she had to act upon her threat. So in the darkness before dawn, the woman crept through the city silently until she found the home of Beatrice. She unlocked the doors with a spell and slithered up the stairs to approach the sleeping girl. Initially, she planned to wake her and tell her the tale of her friends' wretched plot then kill her, but she could not. For some reason unknown, Agnes could not kill this girl.

Instead, she let the girl be and cursed her to an eternal physical sleep. Agnes knew that when she would try to wake up the spell would rebound and leave her in a paralyzed state, but anything was better than death in her eyes. So the witch quietly slipped out of the flat again and returned home, a new, dreadful feeling lodged deep in her gut.

Agnes filled her hands with the water, attention back at the sink before her. Leaning down, she splashed the cool water over her face a couple times. She then took a soft towel and dried her face with ease before looking back up into the mirror. When she looked up again, she was surprised to see that she was crying. Tears had begun to swell up in her dark green eyes and a few had run down her tanned face, landing on her nose and dripping down her chin.

She hastily wiped away the salty tears. Why was she crying? She wasn't in pain, there were no marks on her body. Could it be a different kind of pain, though? Agnes shook her head, memories bubbling up from seemingly nowhere.

The memories were of Beatrice. The way she smiled, the way she laughed. How passionate she was when it came to hard work and how much she loved her friends. Agnes told herself that being friends with her was only part of the plan to get to Daniel, but somewhere along the way it stopped being just that.

Agnes was there when Beatrice met her girlfriend. Her name was Kala, a beautiful girl with pale green eyes and brown skin that looked softer than velvet. She was an immigrant from India and came to England just three years ago with her family. They met at some nightclub downtown when Bea spilled her drink on Kala and she visibly blushed for the first time. The way Bea looked at her was like watching the sunrise, and no person could doubt for a second that she was head over heels for her, not even Agnes. And Agnes found that when she thought of the two of them together, she wasn't repulsed. When she thought of them, she smiled. She smiled because their love was pure.

_But how_ , thought Agnes. _Homosexuals don't experience real love, do they?_ And that was when it all changed. _Maybe..._ she pondered. _What if I was wrong?_

Agnes turned off the light to the bathroom and walked back to the bed. She lied down slowly, resting her head gently on the soft, white pillows and pulled the cotton sheets up around her. Then she let go, allowing the salty tears to stream freely from her eyes and dampen her pillow, sobbing loudly and shaking violently. The flat was still dark, still cold, but no longer quiet. Now cries of pain echoed throughout the living space with no one but the grieving able to hear them.

*

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Chris asked, biting his lip in a nervous manner.

Dan sighed. "Yeah, I'm sure. I'm just scared at how they'll react."

"I'm sure PJ will be all for it. He hates her the most out of all four of us."

"I know, but it's mostly Phil I'm worried about. He's so gentle and kind....I don't think he'll like our little plan. " Dan frowned.

Chris put his hands on Dan's shoulders. They were standing just outside Dan and Phil's lounge discussing a plan they had made together on how to defeat Agnes. It was risky but only to themselves and the solution was permanent. If it worked, the plan would be perfect. "I know you don't want to hear this, but he will probably not like our plan. It's just not his style. But he will understand, and even if he doesn't, he'll have to learn to."

"You're right," Dan said, removing Chris' hands from his shoulders. "I didn't want to hear that."

Chris rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Let's just get this over with." He turned sharply and rounded the corner to the lounge where PJ was sitting in an arm chair and Phil was spread out on the couch drinking coffee from a mug.

“What were you guys talking about?” PJ asked, his eyebrow quirked.

Chris looked at Dan. “Well you see-”

“I want to kill Agnes.” Dan blurted out suddenly. Phil choked on his coffee violently, coughing and sputtering for a time before clearing his throat.

“What?”

“Yeah I’m going to go with Phil’s answer as well.” PJ frowned. “Did you say that you want to...kill Agnes?”

Dan breathed out. “Yes.” He started to fret at the blank stares in return. “Look I know how it sounds, alright?!”

“That sounds like a shit idea.” Phil muttered. “And it may very well be shit. But just _listen_ , will you? We tried giving peace, we tried a non harmful solution, and look where it got us. Our friend is all but dead and you want to let the person responsible walk free.” Dan explained passionately.

PJ stood up. “Dan, you know that I hate her. But she is a living breathing person. We can’t just kill her.”

“Why not?” Chris whispered. His head was down, not looking at anybody in the room.

“Chris?” PJ asked, confused.

He looked up. “Why can’t we kill her? She killed so many of our friends, Peej. She killed _Sophia_. Who’s next?”

PJ clenched his fists and exhaled slowly. “I told you not to bring her up, Chris.”

“I don’t care, Peter!” Chris shouted forcefully. It was quiet for a few moments as PJ sat back down without a word. Chris ran a hand through his hair and dropped his voice to a whisper again. “I don’t want to lose anybody else.”

Chris and PJ just stared at each other for a long time, no doubt communicating with their eyes. The two of them had been together for so long that they had their own language just with glances. This particular conversation seemed to be sad and desperate, so Dan and Phil stayed out of it.

After a long silent pause, it was Phil’s turn to stand up. “How would we even do it?”

“Phil are you saying-”

“I’m not saying I’m on board with the plan just yet.” He pointed out to Dan. “I’m just asking if it’s even possible. Isn’t she immortal?”

“Immortals only escape the natural causes of death: disease, old age, heart attacks. Anything unnatural can kill them just like a regular person.” Chris said, breaking PJ’s gaze. “But one of our friends tried to kill her a long time ago and it seems she had a healing shield charm. Our friend never made it.”

“A healing shield charm?”

PJ nodded. “It’s called a _sui cura praesidio_. If you’re a powerful enough witch, you can perform a procedure on yourself to lodge a charm between your ribs right under the heart. It stays there forever and can heal a person almost a hundred times faster than normal. Our friend tried to use a gun on her and her skin _healed around_ the bullet. Now you see why she’s terrifying in more ways than one.”

“So you’re saying it’s impossible?” Phil questioned.

“No, it can be done.”

“How?”

“With an _armorum curationum_.”

“Okay can you cut it out with the freaky witch Latin and tell us what the hell it is?” Dan rolled his eyes.

“A blessed dagger used by ancient witches. It pierces the skin and breaks the charm rendering the witch useless.” PJ paused. “It’s one of the most powerful weapons in existence.”

“Well that sounds downright peachy. Where do we get one.”

“I’m going to have to start using a sarcastic jar on you, Daniel. A dollar every time you’re an asshole.”

“Bite me, Chris.”

“Can you get us one?” Phil sighed, head in his hands from Dan’s annoyance.

“I think so. It’ll be tough but I think I can do it.” PJ looked up at the ceiling. “Oh lord help me, it’ll be tough.”

“How? And why would it be so difficult?” Dan was serious this time, legitimately worried for his friend.

PJ groaned in anguish. “I know an Elder, an ancient witch. Except the thing is I haven’t spoken to him in a long time and he probably hates me so I have no clue on how I’m going to get him to give me what we need.”

“You know an Elder?” Chris gasped. Clearly, this was news to him as well.

PJ smirked. “How cliché would it be if I said he was my father?”

This was the second time Phil choked on his coffee that day.

“You've got to be fucking kidding me.” Dan groused loudly.

“Peej, why didn’t you tell me that your own damn father was an _Elder_?! We’ve been swindling supplies for _how long_? And all this time we could have gotten the goods from your dear daddy.” At hearing this Dan remembered PJ telling him that he and Chris spent some time during the 1920s in New York City and had to suppress a laugh at Chris’ outdated slang.

“I’m sorry babe it’s just we kinda had a fall out ever since he refused to help us with that siren incident, remember? But don’t worry, I’ll try to sort it out and get the knife.” PJ said cautiously.

“Damn right you are. And then you’re going to get me some real-deal Elixir that’s not homemade because it’s supposed to taste like milk and honey and ours tastes like boiled cabbages.” Chris crossed his arms not unlike a toddler does when they throw a fit.

PJ just smiled. “Of course.” He looked at his watch and stood up again. “I better get going now if we want to get the knife by this week.” He walked over to Chris and kissed him on the mouth before whispering something into his ear and walking off without even acknowledging the other men.

“Okay,” Chris said after a moment, still smiling. “I guess that leaves us to plan the details.”

“Wait.” Dan looked over to Phil. “Phil never said if he was okay with this or not. Phil?”

Phil looked at Dan as if he was studying him. The look in his eyes was that of comprehension, but not exactly mutualism. You could practically hear the cogs turning in his mind.

“Do you want this?” Phil asked carefully. His voice was soft, showing how deeply he cared for the man before him.

Dan took Phil’s hands in his own. “Yes. I do. I want us to be safe, Phil. I want to start a life without Agnes threatening it, a life with you.” He looked Phil in the eyes, silently pleading for his acceptance.

“If this is what needs to happen,” Phil took a deep breath. “Then I’ll help you.”

Dan hugged him hard, burying his face in the crook of Phil’s neck. “Thank you.” He said silently. He really did mean his thanks. Usually when people say thank you, they only say so because it is typically what is polite. But this thank you was different. It wasn’t just a thanks for the current situation, it was a thanks for everything. Every little stupid and adolescent thing Dan did to try to do what was right when the consequences were wrong. It was a thank you filled with love.

“Alright love-birds. Whenever you two stop canoodling is when I’ll be ready to actually make a solid plan.” Chris grinned mischievously.

Instead of pulling away, however, Dan grabbed Phil’s face and kissed him full on, tongue and everything. At the same time he also lifted his hand and flipped Chris off, continuing to make out with his boyfriend.

Chris laughed. “Oh, fuck you too, Howell.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everybody! I hope your 2015 was as great as mine was. Can you believe that it's almost the end of The Obstacle of Time? I think I may crie.....(intense sadness) There's probably only going to be about three chapters left so I hope you enjoy every last one of them. Also I have some big news that I'll announce once I finish this fic but you'll have to wait and see ;)


	19. Souls Made of Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs for this chapter:   
> From Eden by Hozier (middle/ end only)

It was dark outside. Pitch black, more like it. Other than the dim orange light emitting from the single lamppost, it was like obsidian on the late April night. And there, under the amber spot light, stood a girl. She was wearing a wine-red full skirt dress with a corset as the top and a long, black overcoat paired with an equally dark bowler hat. From under the hat, golden curls fell to the shoulders of the girl, framing her firm face and red, smirking lips. She was barely visible in the shadow of night, but no one could miss the look on her face.

It was strange to Dan. The woman looked as though she walked out of a Dickens novel, but the details were all wrong. The dress was too short, it was indecent for a woman to show her legs and ankles, and only men wore coats of that length. It was almost as if this woman had decided to combine both the Victorian era and the twenty-first century into one complete costume, but its purpose seemed moot. She would be disgraced in the olden era and deemed crazy in this new one, but somehow, the elaborate attire looked no stranger than the everyday apparel of another simple woman. Yet this was not just a simple woman.

She looked up at Dan with dark green eyes from the light of the lamppost and smiled a big smile. It was then that Dann recognized her and remembered why he was there in the first place. It was Agnes Olivia Childs; and he had come to kill her.

“Daniel!” She called out, striding from the light in black heels. “I almost believed you wouldn’t come.”

Dan bit back his foul tongue. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” He stood rigidly still as Agnes continued to approach him. By the time she stopped walking forward she was barely a foot away from him; he could smell her fragrant perfume.

Agnes smiled again, but it wasn’t a smirk this time. It was genuinely happy. “I’m so glad you see the error of your ways, Daniel. Now we can be together, just as the heavens intended it to be.” She drew yet nearer to Dan, but he didn’t back away. The man stood his ground, not willing to give himself up.

She put a hand on his arm, standing not even six inches away from Dan. “Now you can see, can’t you? We were written in the stars, Daniel. In the very fabric of time itself. No matter who you are born, you will always be a part of time, as will I. This is why we are destined. You are my destiny, Daniel.” Her eyes were soft, no longer the hard emeralds he had known for so long. She seemed so...human.

Agnes placed her other hand on Dan’s chest and he realized just how close she was this time; there was barely an inch of space between where they were both standing. Discretely, his darted his eyes around the alley and looked for his friends. They had to be close by in order to go through with the plan.  _ Where are they? _ He thought agitatedly.

Then suddenly the gap between Agnes and Dan started to close as she moved in. He knew he couldn’t fight it or else he would give himself away, but then she stood taller. When he realized what the witch was about to do, he wanted to scream. He wanted to yell out for PJ and Chris to come and rescue him and for Phil to hold him close and make him forget this all ever happened. Instead, he tried to fight it. As Dan tried to move away from her, however, he found that he could not. He was rooted in place with no way out of this situation, so he stood still and accepted his fate.

Her lips were soft, gentle even. It starkly contrasted with her mannerisms. And she tasted of cherries too, despite the smell of freshly cut roses surrounding her almost like a floral aura. Everything about this kiss was so foreign, so different. Yet regardless of the strangeness of the encounter, it was intoxicating. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t pull away. It was like a spell, but she used no magic on him.

Dan brought his hands up to her back and brought her closer. His mind was screaming for him to stop, but it was like an echo too distant to comprehend. She now placed her hands behind his head and neck and pulled him down to strengthen the kiss without losing the gentleness. He knew it was toxic, but he couldn’t stop; and this scared him.

“Dan!”

Suddenly Dan bolted awake, drool on his chin and the glass table on which he had fallen asleep. Realizing where he was, he wiped his drool away with a hand and looked up at Phil who was the one that had woken him up.

Phil was amused at Dan’s state at first, then his gaze softened into concern when he saw how defeated Dan looked. “Dan…?” He started slowly. “Are you alright?”

Dan sighed deeply and dragged a hand down his face and rubbed his eyes. “I’m just so exhausted, Phil.”

“With what?”

“With everything.”

Phil pulled up his blue chair and sat down next to Dan. He placed a hand gently on his shoulder and rubbed slightly to try and comfort him. “Did you have a bad dream?”

Dan looked back down at the table as he silently debated whether or not to tell Phil the contents of his horrendous nightmare. “I was dreaming about Agnes, about the night we’re going to kill her. She was so...alluring. It felt disgusting.” He left out the part about him kissing the witch and liking it; his boyfriend didn’t need to know anything about that.

“Oh, Dan.” Phil soothed.

“I’m scared, Phil. What if something happens and I can’t kill her?” He paused. “What if I join her?”

“Dan, you are not joining Agnes.” Phil stated firmly.

“But what if I do?” Dan panicked. “What if she bewitches me or something and I leave you to live with her forever?”

“Daniel James Howell, you listen to me.” Phil had placed both his hands on Dan’s face cupping his cheeks softly. “I love you more than anything, and you love me too. So no matter what she does or tries to do to you, I know that you will always be there. She  _ can not _ and  _ will not _ have you. I’m certain of this.”

Phil had moved his face so Dan was staring directly at him. For the first time in a long time, Dan remembered just how beautiful Phil’s eyes were. They were an icy blue colour at first glance, but if you really looked hard enough they glimmered like the Caribbean sea. It was like looking at light reflecting off of water, stands of aqua striking pools of sapphire as lightning. And from his pupil, olive green stretched its long fingers outward and graced the pool with its presence ever so lightly. Rings of gold seemed to be illusions and the tiniest fleck of brown in his left eye was so faint it was barely there. Every detail, every speck and every spot on those blue eyes came together by chance in the melting pot of the universe, and it was even luckier that they chose to gaze upon these soft brown ones out of love and compassion.

In that moment, Dan felt more love for Phil than he ever had before. Maybe it was just the heat of the moment, or maybe it was his soul falling for Phil’s all over again, but the feeling was undeniable. So in that moment, in that one tiny speck of a moment they still had left, Dan kissed his soulmate as if he never had before.

Phil held the kiss for a time but then pulled away, a bright smile playing on his face. It was a happy smile, but also a mischievous one. He stood up from the chair and walked to  the kitchen before returning with a plug-in speaker and hooked his mobile up to it.

Dan chuckled. “Phil, what on earth are you doing?”

Phil just turned around and continued to grin at Dan before turning on music. The air was filled with the sound of sweet guitar strums followed by drums and a low, mellow voice:  _ Babe, there’s something tragic about you; something so magic about you. Don’t you agree? _

Dan laughed a bit louder this time. “Really, Phil? Hozier?”

Phil said nothing but continued to obnoxiously mouth the words and half walked-half danced towards Dan, grabbing his hands and pulling him to his feet. Dan continued to laugh as he discovered Phil’s true intention for bringing out the speaker.

Dancing an arm's length away by holding hands, the two boys giggled at the ridiculousness of the situation but neither wished for it to cease. As the song went on, they danced together with regards for only each other. They spun together and swayed out of rhythm and it was messy, but beautiful. On the last chorus when the guitar dropped and the drums picked up, Dan spun Phil around as if ballroom dancing and he laughed loudly as Phil giggled like a teenager in love. When he spun back, they were face to face, Dan’s arms wrapping around Phil tenderly. Phil looked up at Dan with a smile, the one when he pokes his tongue out just slightly, then placed his head on his shoulder. Dan rested his head on top of Phil’s and began to sway with him to the remaining measures of the song.

The song had ended already when Dan whispered low into Phil’s ear. “I love you.”

Phil brought his head up and looked at Dan and grinned again. “I know.”

Dan snorted. “Did you just make me princess Leia unwillingly?”

“Yup. Obviously I’m the badass smuggler in this relationship.”

“Alright, Han Solo. No need to get cocky.” He smirked.

Phil laughed and put his head back down onto Dan’s shoulder. “But Dan?”

“Yes?”

“I do love you.”

“I know.”

“Good.”

Dan kissed the top of Phil’s head softly. His black hair was soft on his lips and for a brief second he remembered his horrible dream. But as he held the love of his life in his arms, all of the fear dismay drained out of his body; he was at peace. There was nothing in the world that could drag either of them down in this very moment, as all there was in the world was each other.

It’s difficult to explain soulmates and not everyone understands exactly what they are. Then again, there really is nothing to understand. You don’t chose your soulmate, the universe does. Some call it fate, but really it’s science. Everything in the entire universe, whether it be living and breathing or the elements themselves, came from the stars. The atoms that make up our water, our shelter, our friends, it all started as energy inside the core of a star. Soulmates are born from twin atoms, separated in the energy making process. Plato had a theory that everything in the history of existence has an epipsyche, or a soulmate. In a way, he was correct. 

Except souls don’t meet only once. They have multiple lifetimes and somehow find each other in every one of them. They’re like magnets, always pulling towards each other. And no matter what the status quo is, these atoms will always find each other. Humans are like books, and every life is a chapter. You can read each page a different way, but the words will never change their meaning.

“Dan?” Phil whispered again.

“Yes Phil?”

“Are you still scared?” He peered up at Dan with his blue eyes.

Dan exhaled. “I’m always scared.”

“Of what?”

Dan looked down at Phil. “Of losing you. Of losing myself.”

“You’re not losing me, Dan. I’ve told you already, I’m in it with you forever.”

Dan smiled. “Thank you, Phil.”

Phil smiled back warmly. “I believe in you, Dan. Just remember that.”

He snuggled back into the taller man’s chest and closed his eyes, breathing in his lover’s scent. Dan pet Phil’s head lovingly in response. “Don’t worry, Angel,” he mumbled sleepily. “I’ll always remember you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go! A little fluff to tie us over ^_^


	20. The Tenth Stone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prepare your bodies for the longest fucking chapter I had ever written. I'm not sorry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs for this chapter:  
> Writing's On the Wall by Sam Smith  
> Follow Me by Muse
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to David Bowie and Alan Rickman. These were both truly amazing men that contributed so much to the art world with their wondrous personalities and moving performances. "The truth is of course is that there is no journey. We are arriving and departing all at the same time." They will be in my heart after all this time. Always.

Dan was nervous. He doubted that he had ever been this nervous before, in fact, as his body shook violently and his breathing sounded like that of a marathon runner’s. In his hands the phone twitched rapidly along with the pace of his long, slender fingers. He had good reason to be nervous; if he botched this phone call, their plan would die.

Phil looked at Dan encouragingly and raised his eyebrows as if to say  _ just do it already _ . Although the gesture was quite pushy, the comfort in his eyes made up for it. Dan looked back down at the phone and bit his lip, scared beyond imagination despite the distance between himself and the recipient. Carefully, he turned on the mobile and pressed a few buttons, waiting for that dreadful voice to answer.

“Hello?” She answered in a tone as thick as syrup.

“Agnes?” Dan asked, attempting to hide the shakiness in his voice.

The witch laughed. “Daniel! I wasn’t expecting a call from you at this hour, or any hour for that matter. What a pleasant surprise.”

Dan choked back a gag at her saying the word pleasant. “Neither did I.”

“So,” she continued. “What brings you to calling me, then?”

“I...I’ve been thinking.”

“What about?”

He took a deep breath. “I want to leave.”

“Leave? What do you mean?”

“I don’t want my life to be like this anymore. I want to leave all this behind and be with you, as my friend. I’m scared of death, Agnes. I’m afraid of never being happy like this.” Dan squeezed his eyes shut tight and prayed silently that she would believe the lie. He wasn’t always the best actor, especially under pressure, and hopefully it didn’t sound as if he was reading from a script.

After a second of tense quiet, she responded. “I’m glad to hear you say that, Daniel. Because I’m the person who can give that to you.”

He exhaled deeply, relieved that she bought the lie. “I’m happy that you’re happy.”

“Like I said before. I want what’s best for you. I want you to be happy because you have been and always will be my friend.”

“I know.” Dan cringed. “You really love me. I should have realized that a long time ago. I guess seeing Beatrice in her state was what really opened my eyes. I could see how deeply you care about me by doing that.”

The moment of silence was unlike from the one before, as it was thick and agitated. “When do you want to leave?” She finally said. But this time her words rang different from those before; now they seemed almost sad.

“Tonight.”

“Hmm. I think I can arrange that. Are you ready?”

“I think I’ve been ready for a while now.”

“Good. Meet me at Cody Dock at midnight. Pack lightly.”

“I’ll see you then.”

“And Dan?”

“Yes?”

“...Nevermind. I’ll see you then.”

Before Dan could ask Agnes what she was going to say, she hung up. Instead he shrugged and let out yet another sigh of relief. Soon he felt a hand rubbing his shoulder and looked back to see Phil soothing him.

“You did good, Dan.” Phil reassured. “You did good.”

Dan placed his hand on top of Phil’s. “Thanks. I’m still scared though.”

“It’s alright to be scared. You just can’t let it control you, or else the fear will turn into something far worse and then we’ll really have lost each other.”

Dan turned around and kissed Phil roughly, holding his face between his hands. Phil kissed sweetly back until Dan pulled away again.

“That was deep as fuck.”

Phil laughed and playfully hit Dan on the arm. “Shut up. I was speaking from the heart whereas you always speak from your ass.”

“Okay that was just plain rude.” Dan grinned at his boyfriend lovingly. He could practically feel the agitation from before melting away just by looking into those crystal blue eyes.

“Only for you, darling.” Phil winked jokingly and Dan laughed loud and hard. Ease washed over him like a warm ocean wave.

After another peck on the lips, the situation turned serious again and the matter at hand resumed. Sometimes it was hard for the boys to remember how dark their world was when they were with each other. In more ways than one. they were each other’s light.

“Alright.” Phil said, sobering himself. “Pick up your phone, we have to make another call.”

“Another? Why?”

Phil rolled his eyes. “We have to get Chris and PJ over here. You know, the backbone of our plan? The only people who can carry it out?”

“Ohhhh. Yeah. That’s sounds good.”

Phil rolled his eyes again but couldn’t help but smile and Dan grinned as well. Despite what heaviness loomed over their heads, they could still be happy with one another. They were still desperately, hopelessly in love with each other.

*

“Are you ready?” Chris asked, leaning against the wall. 

“Yeah, I’m ready. But where’s PJ?” Dan asked, looking around. “I thought he was supposed to be back by now.”

“He’ll be back any minute now. Time works differently in the Curia where the Elders are. It’s slower over there so one minute is like one hour to us. That’s why he had to leave yesterday to get back today.”

“Oh.”

“Remind me to ask you more about your crazy immortal-witch world. It sounds really cool.” Phil said enthusiastically.

Chris shrugged nonchalantly. “Yeah it’s pretty cool but surprisingly a lot of immortals and witches are dicks. I think they think they’re entitled to the world or something because they’re extremely old.”

Just then PJ walked through the door bundled in a coat and scarf despite the weather being only slightly cold. “What’s this about being extremely old? You weren’t talking about me, were you?”

“Well yes, actually. But aren’t I older than you?”

“Yeah. That’s makes you extremely old plus some. Also that means I’m immensely cooler than you.”

“I doubt that. I’m still way cooler than you.”

“Yeah right. Says the guy who grew a copstash in the seventies.”

“Hey! Mustaches like that were cool at the time!”

“You know I’d hate to interrupt this beautiful couple moment here,” Dan happily interrupted. “But it’s less than an hour till midnight and we still have to go over our plan. And by the way, you’re both incredibly ancient therefore equally uncool.” Chris frowned but didn’t argue.

“Oh yeah, speaking of incredibly ancient….” PJ opened up his jacket and pulled out a brown paper package tied harshly with twine. Although by the looks of it, it was more wrapped and folded over than packaged. “I have it. The armorum curationum.”

Dan gasped in relief. He seemed to be doing that very frequently this day. “Thank god. Our plan would be a lot more difficult without this thing.”

Slowly, PJ untied the twine and unfolded the paper, slipping out a single dagger. [The weapon was nine inches long and had silver handle](http://biconpancakes.tumblr.com/post/137527464518/the-weapon-was-nine-inches-long-and-had-silver); the pomme looked almost like a grey metal crown and the grip spiraled around the base. The cross-guard was curved instead of a normal straight one and the ends pointed up different ways. But the most dazzling part of the dagger was the blade. The blade was shaped in waves that created a notion of elegance and the central ridge was lined with nine red and three white gems starting from the tip up in a line. The tip itself was coated thinly in what looked to be a diamond crust. Everything about the dagger was beautiful.

Dan approached PJ and the dagger all whilst staring at it in astonishment. He placed a single finger on the blade and ran it down the ridge, studying its beauty intensely. When he looked back up at his friend, PJ had a knowing smile in his eyes. Almost as if he too was enchanted by the blade.

“It was handcrafted by an Italian Elder around 700 AD and it costs five-hundred dals. That roughly five million pounds; this thing costs more than my life.”

PJ carefully handed the dagger over to Dan and the man held it in his hands like it was a child; so precious and gentle. “It’s beautiful.” He said breathlessly. “Is that diamond?”

“Yup. The tip has a thin layer of it which probably makes it the hardest blade in the world.”

“And what about the gems? Why are there nine rubies and three clear ones, don’t you think it’s a bit oddly numbered?”

“They’re not rubies, Dan. They’re called sanguis stones, it translates to blood stones. When a person dies by this blade, the blood is collected and stored inside the gems.” PJ explained. “According to legend and word from other witches,” he continued. “The maker of the blade was killed with it by another Elder who feared his power. Seven more people were executed with it until one innocent fought back and killed the dark Elder. It’s been hidden in the archives ever since. You have  _ no _ idea what I went through to get this.”

“That is equally the most beautiful and scariest thing I have seen in my life.” Phil stated.

“Now you know that witches don’t fuck around.” Chris grinned.

“I don’t think we ever forgot that, Chris.” Dan pointed out.

He shrugged. “Well now you know it for sure.” Chris looked down at his watch. “I think we better start going. It’ll take a little while to get to the docks and we don’t exactly have all the time in the world.”

“What about discussing our plan? Shouldn’t we go over it one more time?” Phil asked.

“Like I said, we don’t have the time. We could always just discuss it on the way.”

“Great idea, Chris. I’ll call an Uber to pick us up and then we can talk about murdering a witch with an ancient death blade that harvests blood in the backseat!” Dan smiled sarcastically.

“Fight me, Dan.”

“Knock it off, we don’t have time for this.” PJ rolled his eyes. The boys grumbled and went to leave the flat but PJ stopped Dan by grabbing his arm. “Dan, I forgot one thing.” Once again his eyes fell on the blade. “The dagger has a name.”

“What is it?”

“Vici.”

Dan looked down at the weapon in his hands. _ Vici _ , he repeated in his mind.  _ Fitting for a weapon like this. _ He glanced back up at his friend and saw he was looking out after Chris and Phil while biting his lip worriedly.

“PJ?” Dan asked. “What’s wrong?”

The witch turned towards him with a sad look in his eyes. “It’s my father. He told me that no matter what, someone is going to die tonight with this blade. He said he could feel it.” He shuddered. “But what if it’s not Agnes? What if it’s you, or Chris, or Phil? I couldn’t live with myself, Dan.”

Dan hugged his friend tightly and gently, rubbing his back soothingly. “It’ll all be alright, Peej. This time I know it will be. No more of our friends are going to die anymore, okay? No more.” He whispered into his friend’s curly hair.

PJ screwed his eyes shut and breathed into Dan’s shoulder. “Thank you.” He said softly.

“Anything for my friends.” Dan smiled.

When they pulled away, Dan clasped him on the shoulder in the typical guy way and put his arm around him. PJ chuckled lightly but didn’t pull away because, whether he admitted it or not, he loved Dan. It may not have seemed like it, but PJ loved everyone. He loved Beatrice, he loved Phil, he loved Dan. And he especially loved Chris. They had been together for centuries before, and he hoped centuries more. That was the only good thing about being immortal: he could spend forever with the person he loved most.

Together Dan and PJ walked out of the flat and into the night, Chris and Phil waiting for them just outside. The air was cool and crisp, not biting like the winter air yet just as refreshing. It was a cloudless night and the beautiful stars shined overhead; the crescent moon lit the pavement with its silver light. The boys decided they would walk to Cody Dock tonight.

The whole way there Dan and Phil’s hands were locked tightly together, as were Chris and PJ’s. It seems both couples were scared of losing each other. Dan thought back on what PJ’s father had said and Vici which currently laid inside his coat pocket. What if it wasn’t Agnes who was to die tonight, what if it was one of them? Their blood would run dark red and quiet, dripping from Vici like water from a melting icicle. And then the tenth stone would gather it, and their life would be gone.

“Dan!”

Dan snapped out of his own personal horror show and turned his attention back to Phil. He had no clue for just how long he had zoned out, but his friends had ceased to walk forward.

“We’re here.” Phil stated.

There wasn’t exactly a “there” however. PJ had decided it was safer to split up a few doors down from the dock in case Agnes caught a glimpse of them together somehow and their plan turned to dust. Nevertheless, a thick atmosphere clung to their skin and Dan could swear that it was darker in the spot where he was supposed to meet the female witch.

“Are you ready?” PJ asked. Dan was beginning to tire of hearing those words.

“As I’ll ever be.” He joked despite the threat that lie ahead. But before he could go, Phil squeezed his hand tight and pulled him closer to him.

“Dan.” Phil’s voice was soft and caring. “Just know that whatever happens tonight, you’ll always be the love of my life.”

Dan smiled. “Don’t worry, Phil. You’ll always be my idiot.”

“Well then,” He said, moving closer so the words brushed against Dan’s lips. “Let’s be idiots together.”

Their kiss was rough but gentle, sad but passionate. It was wrapped in a paradox and strung together with irony, but in a way it was perfect. To anyone else it would be difficult or even impossible, but somehow it made sense to them. Phil was the one who broke the kiss, too soon in Dan’s mind.

“Go.” He whispered. Phil placed his hands on Dan’s chest as if to push him away, but the soft touch resembled what he truly wanted: for his love to stay. 

Dan only nodded. Reluctantly, he turned away and headed for the dock. Dan didn’t dare look back, because he knew if he did, he would never want to leave. He would see those sad, blue eyes and melt instantly. Instead he held his head up high and walked into the darkness that awaited him.

As he turned the corner, Dan was almost relieved at the sight before him. There was no single lamppost to light the alley, as light poured out from inside the pubs next door and it was enough to create a dim glow to see in. Agnes was not under a spotlight but was actually leaning against one of the brick walls looking out onto the creek that lead to the Thames. Nor was she dressed in an elaborate modern-victorian costume, but rather dark, faded blue jeans and a forest green hoodie. Her attire was surprising, but not as surprising as her hair. Gone were the golden brown curls that fell effortlessly to her shoulders, and in its place was short, straight hair that barely came below her chin. Dan nearly stopped dead in his tracks after seeing her.

When she saw that Dan had arrived, Agnes turned her back on the water and faced him, standing up from the wall. Her hands were in her hoodie pockets and the woman looked nothing like herself, more like a scruffy teenager than a powerful nine hundred year old witch.

Dan cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “You changed your hair.” Was all he could manage to say apparently.

Agnes smiled brightly. “Do you like it? I figured that I’ve had the same boring hair since the middle ages so why not change it a little bit? And if you’re wondering,” she gestured to her clothes. “I told you to pack light and these are the lightest and most comfortable clothes I have. Plus I think I look good in them, don’t you think?”

“Yeah. You look great.” Dan replied.

Agnes walked closer to him but something told Dan that she had no intentions to kiss him like she did in his dream. “I’m happy that I’m your friend”

He gulped. “Me too.”

She looked down and away as if she was avoiding his gaze. “There’s something I need to tell you, Dan.” He was almost shocked to hear her calling him by his nickname instead of his formal name. She told him herself that she preferred the version of him from when they first met.

“What is it, Agnes?” Even through the disgust he felt in this moment, Dan was still curious about what she had to say.

The witch looked up at him with her dark green eyes and whispered “I’ve made a mistake.” Before Dan could respond to her grave realization, a sudden shout sounded.

“Now!” 

There PJ was, standing at the front of the alley way with what looked to be some type of rock in his left hand. The rock started to glow a bright red and when it got large enough the man threw it at Agnes. The first shot barely missed her, but the second hit her directly in the shoulder. It wouldn’t be enough to badly injure her, but enough to distract her.

Chris and Phil came running from the back entrance of the wide alley quickly. They were supposed to hold Agnes down so Dan had enough time to get Vici and end their suffering. Except Phil wasn’t fast enough. Chris got to Agnes and pulled one of her arms back but in one swift movement she used magic to throw him off of her. She had conjured up an amber coloured mist that looked like a coiled lash in the air. With just one touch he flew backwards at an alarming velocity and slammed against the brick wall.

Agnes turned to face Phil and flicked her wrist sending the amber magic towards the boy and around his throat. He immediately stopped dead in his tracks, gasping for air and eyes bulging. His hands reached for his neck to try and loosen the grip, but there was nothing physical he could resist. As she lifted her hand higher into the air, the lash raised Phil off the ground and a choked scream of agony emitted from him.

“Phil!” Dan cried out. He reached into his jacket and pulled out Vici but as PJ threw another magic bomb, Agnes deflected it and it hit Dan square in the chest.

The air from his lungs was completely gone and his vision was clouded by black spots. For a moment Dan didn’t know where he was but as the spots slowly faded away, he found himself on the ground sprawled out from the hit. Agnes had dropped Phil from the lash and he layed on the ground unconscious and unmoving; she had moved on to PJ. 

PJ could fight Agnes off a little better, as he was a witch as well and around the same age as her, but she had had so much more time to practice. This was evident. The amber lash coiled and uncoiled in the air as she tried to grip his neck just as she did with Phil but PJ had produced his own strand of lilac mist and used it to fend off hers. When the choking trick failed to work on him, however, the lash glowed darker and Agnes began using the magic as a whip. She worked smart and quick, too quick for PJ to keep up and she managed to thrash him a few times. His shouts of anguish were almost too much to bare.

Dan searched the ground for the fallen Vici and saw that it was only a mere foot or so from where Agnes stood. As he stood up to retrieve it, she caught notice of what he was staring at. Within a second, Agnes dropped the lash and PJ fell to the ground. They both dove for the blade but Agnes got there first. Luckily, she was still on the ground when Dan came to and began to think quick. He started his foot far back and with every strength he had left kicked Agnes with the toe of his shoe directly under her chin. She grunted in pain and fell backwards, dropping the dagger.

She squirmed and reached for it again but Dan stomped on her wrist hard. From the cry of pain she made it sounded like he broke her wrist beneath his shoe. He bent down and retrieved Vici, never once removing his foot.

_ Do it. Do it now. Now’s your chance. _ His mind told him. Dan spun the dagger in his fingers and looked down at Agnes below, tears of pain in her eyes.  _ This is where the plan comes together. This is when you become free. _ Dan raised the blade up to force it into the witch but then stopped.

“No.” He whispered. “I can’t. I can’t do it.” Dan let his hand drop to his side and stepped off of Agnes’ wrist. “I can’t do this to you.” He looked down and closed his eyes, disgusted in his own actions.

“You’re right.” Agnes sat up from where she was laying on the ground. “You can’t do it.” Slowly and unsteadily she stood up and took Dan’s hand with the blade. There was a look in her eyes, different from before. It wasn’t hate or pain, but something else entirely. “But I can.”

He didn’t have time to react. Agnes had clasped his hand that held the dagger and ran herself onto it, piercing her own skin with the diamond tip right beneath her heart. The sound was like cutting into meat, but the thick blood made it real. Her chest glowed slightly for a second and Dan realized it was the healing charm being broken. Agnes was going to die.

“Agnes!” She fell backwards onto the ground when she pulled the dagger out and Dan fell to the ground beside her.

“Dan….” The witch murmured.

Dan was now holding her tight in his arms and looking down at her face. “Why? Why did you do this? You could have lived. We all could have lived.”

Agnes swallowed. “I...I was wrong. And you...you were right. I forgot what love was...so I tried to take yours away.” Shakily she placed a hand on Dan’s cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not too late.” He assured more to himself than to Agnes. “We can still save you.” 

He knew it was a lie, but he wanted to believe it. Looking down at Vici covered in Agnes’ blood, Dan could see a trickle of the dark red liquid slowly seeping into the tenth stone. She was dying. And once the stone was filled, she would be dead. It was truly too late.

“No, Dan. You know you can’t. And I have to...pay for my sins.” She began to cough and sputter, blood coming from her mouth and staining her lips crimson. “Tell Peter I’m sorry. Tell everyone I’m sorry. And tell Beatrice...tell Beatrice that I loved her. She was a good friend.” There were tears rolling down her cheeks now, not only tears of pain but tears of sorrow.

“I’ll tell them.” Dan promised, his eyes now watering too.

Agnes smiled through the blood at Dan and nodded in approval. Then she looked up past him, to some unknown sight in the sky only visible to her. It seemed that she was no longer laying there in Dan’s arms, but catching a glimpse of another world entirely. It must have been beautiful from the way she looked at it.

“Elinor….” She whispered with her last breath. And with that, Agnes Olivia Childs was gone.

It was silent for a long time in the alley. Dan didn’t want the reality of what had occurred to sink in. Instead he held the dead woman in his arms and listened to cars far away drive through the town. After what seemed like an eternity, he looked back down at Agnes in his arms and carefully closed her eyes. She was finally at rest.

Dan lifted Agnes out of his arms and gently laid her down on the ground. It was the first time he realized just how tiny she was. He traced his hand down her soft face and wished harder and more than ever that things could have been different. She could have been a great friend.

“Dan?” He heard a small voice say.

Dan turned around and saw that PJ was laying crunched up against the brick wall. His facial features were soft and empathetic and somewhat scared like he was afraid to hurt Dan.

“How long have you been watching?” Dan asked quietly.

“The whole time. I’m sorry, I didn’t want to disturb you-”

“It’s alright.” Dan wiped the water from his eyes. “I don’t know why I’m crying, honestly. She meant nothing to me.” He stood up from the ground whilst still looking at her body. “Nothing at all.” 

Dan’s attention was taken from Agnes when he heard a familiar groaning sound off to his left. Turning away from the gruesome scene, his eyes landed on Phil still crumpled on the hard ground. Guiltily, he had forgotten about his boyfriend for the moment, but now that he was reminded of his presence, it was all too much for Dan not to run to him.

“Phil!” Dan charged. He skid to his knees and helped lifted him up.

Phil was coughing a little bit but seemed otherwise fine. Dan did notice however that he would touch his neck gingerly whether he realized he was doing it or not. But Dan was just happy that he was okay.

“What happened?” Phil asked, looking at Agnes’ bloody body.

“She forced the dagger onto herself. She said ‘she had to pay for her sins.’ I couldn’t stop her.” He looked down. “I’m so sorry.”

“Look at her, Dan. Really look.”

Dan made himself look back at Agnes’ resting body. She lied completely still like a statue but looked to be made of satin instead of stone.

“She’s at peace, Dan. She’s at peace.” Phil placed his hands on Dan’s shoulders for comfort. “And you know what?”

“What?”

“ _ We’re alive _ . We just fought a battle with magic  _ and we’re alive _ ! Hah!” Phil laughed.

Dan couldn’t help but smile at Phil’s laugh when he hugged him warmly. And he was right. It was good to be alive.

“Chris!” 

Dan and Phil stopped hugging and let their eyes fall upon the agony that was before them. Neither had realized what had happened to their friend.

Their friend was kneeling on the ground by a motionless Chris, blood on his lips and under his head on the stone ground. Some of it was on the wall too. And there sat PJ, frantically pumping with the heel of his palm between Chris’ ribs over and over again. After a few seconds he stopped and breathed into his mouth, getting his lover’s blood on his lips in the process.

“Come on Chris! I can’t lose you, not you too!” He cried loudly.

PJ continued to pump his palms and mumbled words to send a small electric shock through Chris’ body. He arched up, but didn’t respond.

“Please, Chris! You’re all that I have!” PJ was full on sobbing now, having ceased CPR and burying his face into Chris’ chest. “You’re all that I love!”

There was no response.

A minute after he stopped trying to revive his love, PJ stood up and turned around. His eyes were red and his face blotched, but the most prominent feature on his face was despair. There was nothing left of the curly haired man Dan met in a prison cell four hundred years ago. All that was left was a broken heart.

“I- I couldn’t save him.” PJ’s voice cracked as he said this, and if Dan and Phil weren’t already crying, they would be right now.

“You did all you could, Peej. It’s not your fault.” Phil soothed. 

PJ shook his head. “No, it  _ is  _ my fault! I should have helped him! He’s dead and it’s because I wasn’t there to save him!” He put his head in his hands. “ _ I’m so fucking stupid. _ ”

“You got that right.” A voice mumbled.

PJ turned back around and saw Chris breathing shallowly and roughly, barely strong enough to talk. But alive.

“Chris!” PJ practically flung himself at Chris, hugging him a kissing all over his face. “God. You. Are. So. Stupid.” He kissed him on the lips hard and long. “I hate you, punk.”

Chris grinned in the mischievous way he always did. “What, you didn’t think it’d be that easy to get rid of me, huh?”

With that PJ kissed Chris one last time, but this kiss was more loving, more passionate, more needy. They had almost lost each other, but now nothing could tear them apart. You could tell by the way PJ held Chris, or by the way Chris kissed PJ whenever he could, they were the very definition of soulmates. Peter James Liguori was made for Christopher Kendall.

“Come on.” Phil said, smiling and taking Dan’s hand. “Let’s go home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Take a shot everytime there's a plot twist in this chapter lmao. So.....what did you think? (Don't worry it's not over yet, I swear)


	21. In the End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song for this chapter:  
> A Thousand Years by Christina Perri

It was a beautiful day. May was always an attractive month, but today was especially gorgeous. The sky was a bright blue hue, and fluffy white clouds that appeared softer than cotton dotted the atmosphere here and there just enough to bring shade for those who wanted it. It was neither chilly nor hot, but somewhere in between and the wind felt silky against one’s skin. The air smelt of fresh flowers and a bit of honey as well: the perfect spring day. It was a beautiful day indeed, and a beautiful day to die.

Daniel Howell-Lester laid back against his headboard with closed eyes . Not sleeping, just resting. He had been doing that a lot recently, as if all he could do was rest, sleep, and eat. He hadn’t been eating a lot as it was though. Most days were filled with watching the tellie and reliving memories both good and bad. He hardly ever moved anymore, he didn’t think he could. There was no denying the truth now: Dan was dying.

Dan had lived a good life, not just that, but a long life. It was the first time he could ever remember that he hadn’t died young. At nearly eighty years old, it was simply just time to die. Dan wasn’t scared of death, he hadn’t been for a long time. Death was a natural event in life, at some time or another, everyone died. So no, he wasn’t scared of death. The old man welcomed it with arms wide open.

Except he could have chosen differently. His old friend Peter James knew quite well that both he and his husband could live forever if they truly wanted. He had offered to give them a way out. This was a memory that often played in Dan’s mind, a scene that repeated daily. He could remember it so clearly, as if it had only been a day or so ago.

It was the night of their wedding when PJ and Chris approached them. Earlier in the night the couple had been playfully reprimanded about forgetting to bring a gift to the ceremony, but as they pulled the newly-weds aside, it was clear that they hadn’t forgotten their gift; they had saved it for last.

“Alright, alright.” Dan said whilst laughing happily. “I get that you want to make it all secret-y but you don’t need to be so rough about it.” Latched onto his arm was a very excited PJ Liguori, barely able to contain his emotions.

Next to them was a similar scene with Phil being almost dragged by a grinning Chris Kendall. Neither of the boys knew what all of the fuss was about, but by the looks Chris and PJ were giving each other, it must have been big. Dan hoped for an all-paid vacation to Paris.

“Well,” Phil laughed when they had come to a stop inside an empty room. “What’s this big wedding present surprise?”

PJ looked at Chris smiling and nodded once at him before answering. “So...here’s the thing. I have lived for nearly nine-hundred years and never once have I had friends quite like you. Honestly….I don’t think I’ve ever had  _ real  _ friends in centuries.” PJ rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

Chris nodded vigorously in agreement. “What he said. We love you guys so much. No homo.” Dan snorted at this. “But really! So, what we’re trying to say is-”

“We want you to be immortal like us.” PJ finished for him.

Needless to say, Dan and Phil were shocked. Beyond shocked, actually. They had never once expected PJ to offer them immortality; it just wasn’t something that seemed possible. When Phil asked PJ how one grants eternal life, he explained it as a bond. He was born this way, and if he willingly shared his soul, then whoever he chose could live forever. The witch described it as the strongest display of love in the universe, so why would either of them believe that he would share this gift with them? Neither Dan nor Phil had considered that PJ loved them more than anything in the universe. Besides Chris, there was no one else that PJ would rather share his soul with.

“Wow.” was all Phil could say. One the other hand, Dan just stood there with his mouth open, gaping like a loon.

“Well?” Asked PJ after was seemed like hours of shock. “What do you say? Do you want to live forever?” PJ smiled so brightly then, it was like looking at the sun.

Dan looked at Phil questioningly. They had come up with a plan for themselves, something permanent. The men had spent countless hours lying awake thinking it over, wondering if what they wanted was the right choice. Now that PJ had offered something else, they now had the option to back out and leap into a whole new universe. But when Phil shook his head slightly, Dan knew he was right. It was time to let go.

“Peej,” he started slowly. “Thank you.” Dan smiled warmly. “For everything.”

“But….?” Chris wondered anxiously.

“But we can’t.” Phil interjected softly. Both PJ and Chris’ faces fell quickly, a sad gloom cast in their eyes and gleeful hope gone. “I’m sorry. Trust me, we would love nothing more than to share your soul, Peej. It’s truly the greatest honour, but we just can’t.”

“Oh.” PJ cast his eyes down. It was obvious he was disappointed. “This is awkward: now we  _ really  _ don’t have a gift for you guys.”

“Actually,” Dan said, clasping PJ on the shoulder. “There is something you can do for us.”

“What is it?”

“Take our Memories.”

“What?!” PJ gasped.

“Not now!” Phil laughed. “We’ve decided that when we die and are reborn into the next life, we want to start over completely. It’ll be best for everyone.”

“But why?” Chis asked softly.

“Because I don’t want to live my life knowing that it only has one purpose. I don’t want to wait every single day, hoping that it will be  _ the  _ day. I just want to be me. And most of all, I want just me to fall in love with just Phil all over again. If not for any other reason, then for that.”

It was Chris and PJ’s turn to fall silent. “Okay.” PJ responded after consideration. “I can do it. But are you absolutely sure about this?”

“Yeah,” Phil said, taking Dan’s hand and squeezing it tight. “We’re sure.”

That was about fifty-five years ago. In that time, both couples desperately tried to stay friends with each other, but eventually they grew apart slightly. The immortals had to change their identities a few times which meant disappearing for years at a time, but they always passed their new identities off as the offspring of their older selves; it was a trick many immortals had practiced. Of course they always stayed in touch, but seeing each other in person was so much more satisfying than a hushed phone call.

From what Dan could tell, both he, Chris and PJ lead fairly happy lives without the threat of another witch. Dan and Phil married in late June of 2016, an outdoor wedding with cherry blossom trees and koi ponds littering the skirts of the ceremony space. It was quite cheesy and even a tad bit cliché, but it was perfect for them. To top off the Japanese theme, they took their honeymoon to Tokyo for two weeks, all thanks to a discount flight Beatrice got them as a present, and returned happier than ever: their lives were finally perfect.

Chris and PJ had never wanted to get married; it just wasn’t something they thought of doing. Plus, being immortals, it was pointless to be legally married and have to be remarried only twenty years later. In their eyes, they were already married by sharing a soul. Although a few years after Dan and Phil had their wedding, they started wearing matching rings but neither would admit that they were marriage emblems. And when it came time for them to disappear, they were on a mission this time.

PJ had found another of Sophia’s books during a trip to the Curia and discovered how she tracked other witches with a spell. After gathering ingredients and many tedious experiments, he finally got it to work. A female witch had been born in Edinburgh and placed in an orphanage and Chris and PJ had decided to adopt her and raise her with knowledge of her gifts. The immortals had owned a cottage in a remote part of Scotland for some time for when they needed to change identities and decided to raise her there. They named her Amelia Grace and she was the perfect daughter they had always wanted.

Dan and Phil had children of their own, too, two daughters and one son: Winnie, Charlotte, and Dylan. They were a happy family that loved each other so completely and supported each other through everything. When Dylan confessed to Dan that he wanted to be chef just like him, he smiled so wide that his face felt as though it was breaking. Charlotte became quite a skilled pianist as well and Phil taught Winnie how to be an excellent photographer. They truly were a perfect family.

Dan hadn’t even noticed that Phil had approached him by the bedside and was surprised when someone took his hand. He looked over and saw his husband smiling with bright blue eyes. 

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Phil replied softly.

Dan closed his eyes and breathed deeply. “It’s today.” He whispered quietly.

“I know.” Phil said, rubbing his thumb over Dan’s knuckles. “I can tell.”

“You- you need to call PJ. He has to do the ritual before I go or else I’ll remember everything.” Dan said, choking back tears.

“Dan,” Phil sighed. “I called them two days ago. They’ve been staying in a hotel about five miles from here and Winnie has told me that the rest of our kids are coming too.”

By now, all of their children had grown up and left home. Winnie was married with three children, Charlotte found a husband and was pregnant with her first child, and Dylan had gotten engaged to Beatrice’s son Jonathan. They had lives of their own far away from their parents, and Dan and Phil couldn’t be prouder.

“No. No, Phil. I don’t want them to see me die. You can’t-”

“They are grown-ups, Dan. Whether you like it or not, they’re not our little babies anymore.”

“I know. I wish they were.” He thought for a second. “Is Amelia coming?”

Phil nodded. “Yes. PJ said that he wants both of us to see her at least once when she’s an adult before you go. He said it’s important.”

“Then go call them. Call our children too, tell them I want to say goodbye.” Dan leaned back against the headboard and had Phil help him into a lying down position. This was it. He was going to die.

Not even an hour later, Dan and Phil’s small suburban home was filled to the brim with people all wishing to say goodbye to him. Dan was aware of the toll the ritual would take on him, and that it might even spark his death, so he let his children visit him in his room first.

Winnie was a beautiful woman with wavy auburn hair and soft brown eyes much like Dan’s. Her heart was as gentle as her facial features and her hands shook as she held her father’s tightly. Tears brimmed at her eyes but she let none fall. This made Dan smile slightly; she always was so tough. In a low voice, his first daughter wished him well and kissed him on the forehead letting his other daughter say her goodbye.

Charlotte was already crying before she even said anything. She was so close to Dan as a child and even as an adult she shared a special bond with him. Her curly brown hair was a mess, presumably after running her hands through it, and her light eyes seemed so much bluer with the tint of her tears. She struggled to get out her words as if she was choking on them, but that was all Dan wanted to hear: his youngest daughter’s voice one last time.

Finally, Dylan was the last to see his father. Despite being adopted, their son looked the most like Dan and Phil. He had dark almost black hair and sage coloured eyes that sparkled when he smiled. The youngest of the Howell-Lester children, Dylan cried softly and hugged his father tightly when he approached him. But when he whispered but two words into Dan’s ear, he couldn’t hold it together any longer.

“Thank you.” Tears ran down Dan’s face now, kissing his son on the cheeks and holding him dearly.

“Dan?” Phil asked, peering into the bedroom. “PJ said he’s ready now.”

Dan let his son go back into the lounge and waited for his old friend to come into the room. PJ was dressed in a nice charcoal shirt with black trousers, his hair curly and wild and face still as young as it had been when they first met in the prison cell. Chris was there too, his hair shorter than before and wearing a white dress shirt paired with tan slacks. He too looked just as young as when they met, except he looked happier now. His trademark smile reached his eyes all the way instead of stopping at his mouth like it had before. Dan couldn’t help but smile as well when he saw his old friends.

“Hi Dan.” PJ said softly, kneeling next to the bed.

“Hi PJ.” Dan breathed. It had started getting almost too difficult to speak now.

“How are you doing?” Chris asked kindly.

Dan thought of replying sarcastically but didn’t have enough energy to do so. “I’m fine, considering I suppose. Where are the things?”

PJ smiled. “Dan, you remember our daughter Amelia, don’t you?”

Dan turned his head in time to see a young looking girl, appearing around nineteen, enter the bedroom with a cardboard box. Long strands of golden brown curls fell lightly on her shoulders and dark green eyes glinted in the rays of the afternoon sun. What little breath Dan had left was taken away at the sight of the girl, and fresh tears pricked his eyes.  _ Agnes _ .

“Here dad.” She said, giving the box to PJ. “I’ll be waiting outside.” Dan could have sworn that Amelia gave him a warm smile before leaving the room and his eyes lingered on the door for a bit longer.

“She’s your daughter now.” Dan stated.

Chris nodded. “Yes. And she’s so kind, nothing like who we used to know. She doesn’t even know who she used to be and hopefully she never will.” He looked back at the door. “We love her so much.”

Dan laughed quietly but it turned into a painful cough. “It’s kind of ironic....when you think….when you think about it.”

“Dan please. Don’t talk. You’ll only hurt yourself.” Phil pleaded. “Is it all ready?”

PJ nodded. “Yes.”

From the box, PJ took a small jar filled with a lilac paste and dipped his thumb in it. Reaching up to Dan’s forehead, he painted a small symbol and put an x over it then placed candles around the bed. Taking Dan’s forearms, he painted with the lilac paste again a long line from the crook of his elbow to the end of his wrist. The witch screwed the lid back onto the jar and took Dan’s hands gently, shaking slightly.

“I promise we’ll come and find you in the next life, yeah?” PJ said, choking back tears.

“You better.” Dan smiled.

“Are you ready?”

He exhaled slowly. “Yes.”

PJ closed his eyes and began to mumble incoherent words to himself. The paste started to glow as a pale green, first at the end of wrists but then elongating to this elbows. It was a warm feeling, not like the hot shock of gaining the memories but more like a tender caress. Dan looked up at Phil who was smiling sadly. 

“I love you.” Phil whispered, tears swimming in his eyes.

“I love you too.” Dan smiled as Phil leaned down to kiss him one last time before he went. As he felt the glow reach the symbol on his forehead, Dan closed his eyes and waited for the calm to wash over him. And with his last breath, Daniel James Howell-Lester said the only thing he could think of.

“See you then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it. That's the end. I've been working on this fic for so long and it has quickly become my pride and joy. Thank you guys so so so much for reading this and leaving wonderful comments that I love! I sincerely hope you enjoyed this story because I enjoyed writing it! I don't think I've ever cried so much when writing a story. Also if you want to listen to the soundtrack then just search The Obstacle of Time on spotify and listen to the playlist!
> 
> In other news, I have a schedule now for future fics!  
> COMING SOON:  
> Skinny Love (rewritten)  
> Broad Love (rewritten)  
> Far From Eden  
> The History of You and Me  
> 2009  
> serial killer au (title yet to be given)  
> The Boy Who Runs  
> Lucky


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